


By Any Other Name

by PsomePseudomym



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Enemies to lovers kind of, F/M, Fluff, L doesn't die, Mentions of Suicide, Slow Burn, idiots to lovers, self indulgent, sexual tension through the roof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 48,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsomePseudomym/pseuds/PsomePseudomym
Summary: Emilia McCarthy had worked hard to build a new life for herself, away from the memories of her time on the force. She started a new job, bought all new clothes, learned a new language, moved to a new country, changed her name, got a fake ID, burned all her personal documents, dyed her hair... Ok, maybe she went a little further than most to move on from her old job, but nothing was going to make her go back into detective work. At least, that's what she told herself before Kira had to show up and be all too interesting for her to ignore.ALTAmelia, Emilia, Irene, Miss Adler, Ami... L certainly had a penchant for giving the newest addition to the Kira Task Force an absurd amount of nicknames. But, you know what they say; a rose by any other name, and all that...
Relationships: L (Death Note) & Original Female Character(s), L (Death Note)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 106





	1. An Act of God

Kurou Otoharada.

Light Yagami’s usually impeccably neat handwriting was rushed, it fell out of the margins of the worn old notebook. 

The “Death” Note.

Well, there was no denying that, now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“In a shocking turn of events, the culprit has collapsed! The children are coming out now, we’ll try to get a closer look.”

“Ah-choo!”

The sneeze was deafening. A groan cut through the radio chatter, just as a shaking hand reached out of its blanket cocoon to fumble around for the remote. Outside, snow fell over the city of Niigata.

“Police are saying the culprit, Kurou Otoharada, has died of a heart attack! This is very unusual, perhaps an act of God? More at--”

With a click and the light fizzing of static, the television was shut off. There was a wet, hacking cough, followed by a hoarse voice. “If God’s doing favors, can he get rid of all this fucking snow?”

With great effort, the hunched-over form of Emilia McCarthy hauled herself from the confines of her bed. She rubbed at her aching temples, frizzy red hair falling in curtains around her freckled face. Grumbling all the while, she went off in search of the sweet relief of a good cup of tea and an Advil.

The burner took several clicks to light before it deigned to share its warmth with the battered old kettle Emilia refused to replace. She liked how the enamel was flecked with little splatters of color, and so long as it didn’t spring a leak, she planned on keeping it forever. While the water boiled, she lugged her laptop into the kitchen and cracked it open. 

Kurou Otoharada.

Of course, there were already dozens of articles being written about the events at the Shinjuku Kindergarten, none of which seemed to contain photos. She sorted through the pages until she found something dated before the Kindergarten incident; a drug trafficking charge. She scrolled further. Several brief reports on other crimes littered the last few pages on the search engine. Most of them involved his use of meth amphetamines. None of them appeared to contain a profile or photo of the culprit.

“Suppose I’ll need to call in a favor if I wanna satisfy my curiosity,” she muttered to herself, having no intention of calling any of her old colleagues. Curiosity be damned. “Never mind, it’s not worth working with those clowns.”

There was nothing strange about a meth head dying of a heart attack, but if his time in prison was to be believed, he’d been let go after getting clean several years ago. Perhaps he’d relapsed?

“It’s probably nothing.”

Still, the reporter’s choice in words hung in her mind. Act of God. Maybe she hadn’t heard them properly. She was no expert in Japanese, having only moved to Niigata four years prior to teach at the International University of Japan. Their preference for teaching courses in English didn’t give her much chance to practice the country’s native tongue.

The screaming of her kettle shot pain like daggers through her migraine-addled head. Kurou Otoharada could wait. After all, she’d given up police work some time ago. Maybe it wasn’t her place to investigate.

An act of God…

In five days, Emilia’s cold had passed, and criminals were dropping like flies. Heart attacks, all of them. There was no writing it off as coincidence anymore, these were murders. The public had started referring to their unseen killer as “Kira,” a name she found all too fitting if it meant what she thought it meant.

Killer… Kira.

The nature of their crimes was the subject of every news network, article, talk show, and even a pop song. It seemed Kira had secured a name for themselves, they were probably thrilled. It took ages of internet searches to sort through the drivel and hype, but Emilia eventually found what she was looking for; deaths attributed to Kira. There was little information, she assumed the police were keeping a tight hold on anything regarding Kira, but it would be enough for now.

“Guess old habits die hard,” she mused.

The deaths were all high-profile cases, most of which had made international news. The few that had confirmed times of death on public record were done around 5pm GMT +9, around when the news broadcasts would have reached Japan. So, Kira was likely Japanese.

The name Kurou Otoharada came to mind. It wasn’t on the list.

Where had she picked up that broadcast from?

Emilia’s TV set-up was abnormal, to say the least. She had several long range satellite receptors hooked up to the monitor, so that she could access the local news networks from surrounding regions. The range only covered the regions that bordered the Chubu region; part of Tohoku, Kansai, and Kanto. If the weather was clear enough, she could reach Chugoku, as well.

One more web search for Kurou Otoharada. She hoped her searches weren’t going to land her on some FBI watchlist. At least she was using a VPN.

Kanto.

It made sense, Kanto was the most heavily populated region in Japan. Just knowing Kira was Japanese made Kanto the most likely place to find them. Another web search for crime in the Kanto region revealed a small number of victims, many of whom had not made any official list of Kira’s kill count. It seemed they ruled out Kira’s involvement in heart attacks, if the criminals in question were more susceptible to them.

“Those dumb asses. This is why I left law enforcement.”

She hobbled over to her television, taking a huge woolen blanket with her, and wrestled with the antennae. She honed the signal in on the Kanto region. It would need to remain on in the background if she wanted the latest reports on local crime. If any of the perps died of a heart attack soon after the report, she’d know Kira’s location, for sure.

She turned on the television. A man laid dead on his desk before two secret service agents carried his corpse away. A bit gruesome for daytime TV, if you asked her.

“This was an experiment to test a hunch I had, but I never really thought… Kira, you can actually kill people without direct contact.” An electronically disguised voice wavered over the weak broadcast signal in Emilia’s apartment.

“Well, that’s terrible news.” It was, she was just starting to think Kira was a network of police officers who were poisoning victims while on the job. She was wrong. She hated being wrong. Oh, right, and the fact that he was killing people, and seemed to have no limit on who he could kill. That was also bad.

The mechanical voice went on to describe in excruciating detail just how they’d managed to trick Kira with their proxy. Again, if you asked Emilia, it was a bit much.

“So, come on! Kill me if you can!”

Also a stupid move, if you asked her.

“What are you waiting for? I’m still here. Can’t do it, Kira?”

No one was asking Emilia, though.

“So there are people you can’t kill, that’s a valuable clue. Now I’ll give you some information, in return. Although it was announced that this was being televised globally… Actually, it was broadcast only in the Kanto region around Tokyo.”

“God dammit!” She knew where this was going.

“You are in the Kanto region of Japan, Kira. And, although the police have missed this, your first victim was the Shinjuku killer who took eight people hostage in a Kindergarten. This case was reported only in Japan, nowh--”

The television clicked off. “Son of a bitch!” she swore, jumping around her apartment.

She knew she shouldn’t feel bad for being one-upped by the world’s greatest detective, but it strung nonetheless.


	2. Dammit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emilia is forced to partake in one of her least favorite activities -- making phone calls.

“Dammit.”

Emilia set down the reports she was grading. Reading students’ criminal profile homework just made her want to focus even more on her own ‘pet project.’

If only the police would release any more information. The news on the case had run dry for weeks. Clearly ‘L’ was working with the Tokyo police. All she could manage to suss out from the meager reports being broadcast was that Kira’s killings was that he had a God complex -- something she already knew by the nature of his first batch of killings.

Perhaps he was on the younger side, probably no older than 25. She didn’t want to discount any possible leads, but it was good to narrow things down where she could.

 _It’s more likely for a young person to have such a strict view on justice,_ she thought. _Some of these victims committed petty crimes that wouldn’t have landed them a death sentence in court._

So: a young person with a God complex. Probably male, most serial killers tended to be.

She should _confirm_ that suspicion, if the police would just release more information.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit.”

Muttering to herself wasn’t going to help. She knew she was going to have to call in a favor. And, there was only one contact she had in the Kanto region of Japan; a former student.

“God fucking dammit.”

She was going to have to call Matsuda.

She swallowed her pride and dialed his number.

“Hello, Emi-chan!” Matsuda greeted her in his usual manner, though she’d never recalled agreeing to using nicknames.

“Good evening, Matsuda,” she said with as much cheer as she could muster. “I was grading profiles, and these students are even worse than you were, your first year.”

“Oh, so that’s why you called! Yeah, I got a lot better though, thanks to you!”

She smiled a bit at that, reminding herself to be cordial. Even if Matsuda had a nasty habit of coming on to her, he wasn’t such a bad guy. At least, he was genuine. “You did all the work, I just yelled at you. Anyway, I just wanted to see how you’ve been since graduation. Did you find a good job?”

She knew the answer to that; she’d seen his Myspace updates. For a second, she felt a twinge of regret for being so blatantly manipulative.

“Yeah!” he exclaimed. “I’m in Tokyo now, did you know that? I’m working with the NPA. Actually, we’ve been on the Kira case. There’s this guy called eh--”

“Don’t!” Emilia interrupted him in the nik of time. Still, she got the information she wanted out of the partial sentence. There was no need to make him break protocol by finishing it. “Have you forgotten everything I taught you, already? You can’t give me details. Hell, I don’t even know if you should mention you’re on the case, at all.”

“Oh, it’s fine! You’re a cop too, so it’s ok.”

“I’m not, and even when I was, I didn’t tell my colleagues about my cases. Keep your lips sealed.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. So they were working with L, she was right. “Still, it must be exciting working on something so high profile. I’m glad for you.” She peppered the last bit with a wistful edge.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re jealous!”

Bingo, he was falling for it.

“Well, hey, I can’t get you on the force, but you’re super smart! I know you’d be a lot of help!” he assured her.

“Thank you, Matsuda. I don’t suppose there’s anyone I can contact? I do have a profile coming along…”

“That’s amazing, I knew you’d be working on it, already! There’s actually an anonymous tip line. Here, let me get you the number…”

And so Emilia found herself once again needing to make a phone call. That was bothersome; she hated phone calls.

“Hello,” the poor sod they put in charge of answering the tip line greeted her.

“Good evening,” she replied. “I know this line is meant to be anonymous, but I need to make sure someone gets back to me. Is that possible?”

The person on the other end sighed. They’d heard that question often. “If we find anything in your report that becomes relevant to the case, the NPA will trace this call back to your number to follow up with you.”

“That’s great, thank you.” She tried to be as concise as possible, feeling a little awkward with her overly formal Japanese. “I profile criminals for a living, and I think I have some information that could be useful.”

The NPA agent seemed to perk up at that. “You’re in law enforcement?”

“Yes. Well, I used to be. I teach criminal justice, now.”

“That’s like a breath of fresh air,” they sounded relieved. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but between you and me, we get some real weirdos on this line.”

“Oh, I can imagine. Though I’d hesitate to say I’m not one of them.”

If the person on the other line caught her joke, they didn’t let on.

Emelia cleared her throat. “Anyway, I have some theories I think could narrow it down.”

She didn’t. They were all conjectures. But, if L got to go on TV to test his hunch, she could at least get the NPA’s attention in hopes of getting more information.

“Do tell,” the agent prodded.

“Well, I can surmise that Kira is young, probably between 16 and 22.” She lowered her previous estimate. The narrower age range would make her sound like she knew what she was talking about. “He’s male, easily provoked, and probably…” She trailed off. This last bit was a stretch, even for her. “He probably has friends or family in the police force. Maybe someone who died on duty.”

“You think so?” the agent said with too much interest.

So, they’d reached some of the same conclusions as she had. Either they had more info, or the mysterious L was just as prone to guessing as she was. She loved being right.

“Yes, I think that would provide sufficient motive for someone to have that kind of grudge against criminals.” She felt a bit cocky. Why not push her luck? At the very least, she’d catch their attention. “And he seems methodical, perhaps studious. Probably does well in school. I’d check the top forty students in Tokyo, and narrow it down to whoever has connections with the police.”

“Amazing…” the officer said under their breath.

“So, you’ll get back to me later, then?” Emilia asked with a smug grin.

Caught off guard, the officer stammered, “W-well yes, if we find anything relevant in your report. Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you, officer.”


	3. Ultimatum

The only thing Emilia hated more than being wrong was waiting.

And, Lord, was L making her wait. Two weeks, in fact.

“You bastard,” she growled to herself as she graded papers. “I’ll bet you’re some kind of sore loser. Can’t stand that someone reached the same conclusions as you, can you?”

She slapped the papers down on the table, shouting to no one in particular. Her strange television set-up hummed in the background, static taking over the screen.

“Another snow storm, huh? I guess that means no more Tokyo local news for the night.”

 _“Miss McCarthy.”_ A familiarly garbled voice spoke through her television.

Well, that was new.

“Hello, stranger,” she replied in English. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone used my satellite receivers to get in contact with me. I assume you can’t hear me, this thing doesn’t exactly have a microphone.”

_“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I am unable to hear you. This is a pre-recorded response to your query on our anonymous tip line on the 18th of December, 2003.”_

“Doesn’t stop me from talking back.”

_“There is a black sedan waiting outside of your home, please get inside after this message has concluded.”_

Emilia pulled back her curtains. There was, in fact, a car waiting for her. The windows were tinted, she couldn’t see inside.

_“I read your report, Miss McCarthy, and while the NPA may think you’re on the side of justice, I am not so easily swayed.”_

“The way you put it, it sounds like you think you, yourself, are justice.”

 _“And seeing as I_ am _justice, your loyalties are still in question.”_

“Damn, I’m good.”

_“As such, you’ve been deemed a threat to the investigation. This message is over. Please get in the car or we’ll have to resort to force.”_

The screen went black.

“You really are a sore loser, L.” Emilia said as she stepped out of her home. “Then again, so am I.”

That’s what had gotten her into this mess, in the first place.

The car was a luxury model. Emilia didn’t know much about cars, but she could smell genuine leather when she opened the rear passengers’ seat. Save for the diver, the car was empty.

“Good afternoon, Miss McCarthy.” The driver sounded far more jovial than the situation called for. If Emilia had to guess, he was in his late 50s. His accent was impossible to place, likely a conscious effort on his part, but he was speaking English.

“‘Ello,” she laid her English accent on thick, falling back on her oldest and most trusted coping mechanism; making pointless jokes. “S’pose you’re 'ere to take me in?”

The driver laughed. She was glad to see her poor attempt at humor wasn't entirely wasted. “Hardly, madam.”

“Then I imagine I’m in even worse trouble than I thought.”


	4. Bang!

“I’m L.”

It was a simple statement -- barely two syllables -- but it held a lot of weight. Chief Yagami and his colleagues froze in the hotel room’s doorway. The man who stood before them was odd, to put it kindly. His slouched posture, pallid complexion, and rumpled clothes hardly showed the professionalism that they expected from such a prestigious person. This was the world’s greatest detective?

“I’m Detective Superintendent Yagami of the NPA.” Ever the professional, Yagami did not show his misgivings about their new acquaintance. A chorus of introductions followed.

“I’m Matsuda.”

“I’m Aizawa.”

“I’m Ukita.”

“I’m Mogi.”

“Bang!” L pulled his hand up in imitation of a pistol, aiming it at the Chief. “If I was Kira, you’d be dead, Yagami-san.”

Disdain and shock reigned in the room.

“What!?” said one officer.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” said another.

“All Kira needs to murder someone is knowledge of their name and their face, you ought to know that by now…” L explained. As he went on to address the group, and inform them of the importance of pseudonyms, he mentally counted the officers. They settled around the coffee table in the center of the room.

_1, 2, 3, 4, 5… where’s Miss McCarthy?_

As if on cue, the door to the hotel opened once again, just as L finished his monologue. Everyone in the room suddenly turned their attention to the door, something that displeased L quite a bit. She was late. She was late and she was upstaging him.

“Good evening!” She said in overly-formal Japanese. Clearly, she wasn’t as fluent as he was.

_Good._

Emilia laughed uncomfortably, stepping into the room, her arms laden with to-go coffee cups in cardboard carriers. “I apologize sincerely for being tardy, I made Driver-san and myself stop to pick up coffee for everyone.”

Watari stepped out from behind the door, following Emilia into the room. “We also have some loose leaf tea, if anyone prefers that over coffee.”

 _Traitor,_ L thought. 

“Put it on the counter, please.” He sighed before raising his voice in an attempt to get the room’s attention back. “As I was saying, Kira needs a name and a face to kill.”

“Emi-can!?” Matsuda’s incredulous voice rang out over L’s, causing the oddball detective to slouch his shoulders in annoyance. “This is amazing! When we got that profile on Kira, I knew it was you who sent it, I just knew! Wow, this is so exciting! Are you joining the investigation?”

Emilia’s brow twitched. She hadn’t expected Matsuda to make it this far in the ranks. That, and she wasn’t yet sure why she had been called here. At least Matsuda’s greeting proved to her that the task force was not aware that L had labelled her a ‘threat.’ It was best to keep it that way. 

“It is good to see you, Matsuda.” She said.

“Ah, splendid, you know each other. I should have guessed.” L spat, his words heavy with disdain. “Can we please focus on the task at hand?”

“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry,” Matsuda apologized. Then, his face lit up again as if by some sort of switch. “Oh yeah! I had an idea: if we know that Kira needs to know people’s names and faces, then can’t we tell the media to omit those from their crime coverage? That could limit the number of victims.”

L held back a sigh. These people had volunteered to join him when no one else would. Annoying or not, they were all he had. “If we do that, ordinary people will be killed.”

There was no room on the couches for Emilia, something she noticed a bit too late. She was forced to stand awkwardly behind Chief Yagami, watching L hover over the couch in his strange crouching position. She knew it was L, of course, but she couldn’t take the credit; Watari had briefed her on the detective before they arrived. 

When the mysterious driver had told her there would be others there, she’d insisted they bring coffee and tea. There was a reason for that; she wanted to take the edge off of being the new kid on the block, or even a suspect. Luckily, it seemed the rest of the team didn’t know why she was there. Unluckily, she still didn’t know, either.

“Ordinary people?” Ukita asked.

“Why’s that?” Aizawa added.

“Kira is childish, and he hates losing.” L’s gaze locked with Emilia’s. “And as some of you may know… I’m also childish and hate losing, or when people who don’t know what they’re doing try to compete with me. That’s how I know.”

Emilia winked coyly, knowing the rest of the team wouldn’t see her. She did love being right. Perhaps she was also a bit childish. Still, she couldn’t help but preen a bit at being considered ‘competition’ by him, even if the admittance had been surrounded by a myriad of insults.

“L… No, Ryuzaki. Could you explain that a little more clearly?” Chief Yagami asked.

And explain, L did. Emilia took in every word hungrily, overjoyed at the opportunity to learn more about Kira’s personality and patterns. Evidently, he was keen on challenging those who opposed him, and had responded to several of the NPA’s tactics with challenges of his own.

L then proceeded to propose a plan of his own. They would announce 1,500 secret agents would be arriving in Japan, hoping making Kira feel cornered would provoke him to move. However, in reality, no agents would arrive. The investigation would be solely the responsibility of the task force.

Emilia listened as they discussed the idea. They seemed to take to the idea, which was good -- it was a great idea. She had to hand it to him.

“Do you mind if I share my thoughts on this case with you?” L cut through the chatter. Every eye in the room leapt to him. Emilia pulled a notebook and pen from her purse, taking notes as L stated his findings to the group.

“It is vital that you do not take any notes regarding this case,” L warned, shooting her a scathing glare. “Unless you’re intent on compromising the entire investigation and allowing Kira to get off scot free.”

"Is that so?" She scribbled something down in her notebook.

"Yes. Remember that you could be facing jail time."

She sighed, handing her notebook over. “I suppose you’ll want this incinerated, then.” It wasn’t a question. She had only known him a few minutes, but she could already tell his paranoia was well beyond normal levels. It came with the title, she supposed.

He gestured to the man who had driven her there -- addressing him as Watari -- to take the book. Watari did as he was bid, taking her notes away to be burned, or perhaps analyzed. She watched Watari closely, noting how the corners of his eyes wrinkled ever so slightly when he saw the first page.

The page contained nothing relating to the case; only a crude doodle of a frog with awfully familiar bags under its eyes and a shock of black hair. The fact that Watari found her doodle humorous meant that she had one less person to convince that she was harmless.

She smiled proudly to herself, chalking up another petty, imperceptible victory on her mental scoreboard. L resumed his explanation, preceded by a small, dissatisfied grumble. Perhaps he’d hoped she would put up more of a fight.

Emilia watched as L picked apart the events since the FBI agents were sent to Japan. As he continued, he pointed out significant connections to the team, patiently explaining his thought process. Honestly, Emilia was thrown for a loop -- she hadn’t expected him to work with others as well as he did. Then again, they’d only had two interactions, thus far.

Once everyone was on the same page, they began hashing out a plan for narrowing down the list of suspects. They’d form two teams; one to trace the agents’ movements, and the other to trace the movements of the 23 victims who died around the same time. If they could make a connection between any of them, they’d have their suspect.

Emilia clutched her arms around herself. Though it was incredible to get so much info about the case, she couldn’t help but feel like the other shoe was about to drop. She knew that she was not like the rest of the people in the room. They had already been working on the case. They were included in the conversation.

They were probably not considered a ‘threat’ by the detective in the armchair before her.

“There aren’t many people who had access to task force information and were being probed by the FBI in the first five days.” Matsuda stated.

“Yes, and even fewer who fit the profile,” L offered, turning his attention back on Emilia. She shrank under his gaze. “Which Miss McCarthy so kindly offered to us.” He got up from his chair, hobbling over to her to stare her down more effectively. “Though, unless she somehow procured information that was not disclosed by the police, I believe her assumptions to be just that; assumptions.” He switched over to English for one last statement, tilting his head oddly and smiling down at her. “And you know what they say about assumptions.”

“Are you saying this woman is the same one who sent in that profile?” Aizawa balked, looking at her in disbelief.

“Yes,” L droned, “you all expressed interest in consulting her, though I’m unsure as to why. We’re short-handed, so every person we can get involved is needed; so long as I know I can trust them, of course.” He poised a thumb over his lips, eyes narrowing at her. “And since her profile is nearly identical to the one I constructed, she’s highly suspicious. I wouldn’t discount the idea that she might in fact be in league with Kira. This is, ironically, why I know I can trust her.”

“Emi-chan, working with Kira!?” Matsuda shouted, “there’s no way! No way at all!”

“How could you say you can trust her if you think she’s working with Kira?” Mogi asked, shrinking away from Emilia.

“Because she can either stay here, under constant supervision, and aid in the capture of Kira,” L paused to smirk at her, “or she can go to jail for the rest of her life.”

Emilia glared at him. She was certain they both knew that her profile was a lucky guess, at best. Plus, she had already expressed interest in helping to catch Kira by offering her services over the anonymous tip line. There was no reason to give her this kind of ultimatum.

He was being petty, that much was clear, and it seemed as though he needed little reason to treat her in such a manner.

“So, what will it be,” he said in English, “Amelia?”

She plastered a smile on her face, though it twitched in frustration. “It’s Emilia, actually -- with an E.”

“No, it isn’t. I’d advise you to take more precautions the next time you try to hide your identity from the police,” he said simply. It felt less like she was being scolded, and more like he was providing her some thoughtful advice. She supposed he _would_ have more experience in that matter than her. Raising his hand, he pointed his fingers at her as if holding a gun. “Bang.” he said softly.

Silence hung in the room. Well, there went any amount of trust the task force had in her. Even Matsuda looked crestfallen. Emilia with an A cleared her throat.

“So, how about that coffee?”

“The coffee can wait. First, I need to speak to each of you one by one.” L walked away, returning to his seat. Amelia breathed a sigh of relief as his gaze left her. “I need to be sure that none of you are Kira. Amelia, clearly you’re still under suspicion of working with Kira, but I’ll be speaking with you nonetheless.”

“That makes sense,” Chief Yagami chimed in, “if Kira was with the task force to begin with, it’s not likely that he would have left.”

“It’s gonna get cold…” she pouted. Her peace offering was going to waste, something she was sure gave L a great deal of satisfaction.

He sighed and, much to her surprise, said “Fine, everyone can have coffee while they wait to be interviewed.” He turned to address them all with an uncharacteristically sweet smile. “Let’s leave no time wasted. We have to ensure that we show Kira that, no matter what, the good guys always win!”

 _You mean that you always win._ Amelia thought with a sneer. This was gonna be a loooong… however long this was going to take.


	5. Change My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So far, I have concluded the following: you are childish, careless, stubborn, and naive. You refuse to back down from a challenge even when you know for a fact you are beaten, and what’s worse; you risked your career and possibly your life to deliver a smattering of entirely unfounded claims about Kira’s identity to an organization he may very well have ties to.”

“Amelia, please have a seat.”

She greeted L with two cups of coffee in hand. “You didn’t take yours,” she explained as she set the cup down in front of him. “Watari was with me when I bought it, I can promise it’s not poisoned.” Of course, he’d probably hoped it was. If the rest of the task force died after drinking the coffee, it would only cement his suspicions of her.

He regarded the coffee wearily. “I don’t drink it black.”

“Yes, so I was told. There is a great amount of chocolate syrup in there, and milk.” She sat, leaning back in her chair and sipping from her own cup. “So, why does everyone else get a pseudonym, but I have to lose mine?”

“Because you were using one, to begin with,” he explained as he picked up the cup. His fingers made as little contact with the cup as possible as he brought it to his lips and took a tentative sip. “Which is highly suspicious. Not to mention, it took a lot of digging to find any documentation containing your true identity. Why is that?”

“Can we continue in English, please? It’ll be a lot easier for me.”

“I suppose,” he answered in English.

“I worked on a few high profile cases, when I was still in the force. A few perps got a little too close for comfort before I was able to get ‘em locked up. I’m sure you know how it is. One day, you’re doing your job with no issue… the next, some creep mails you a severed finger.”

“I never use my real name for work, and I always take the proper precautions, so no. I can’t say I ‘know how it is.’” The last quip was made in a mocking mimic of her accent.

“Why do you dislike me so much?”

“I’ll be asking the questions, Amelia. You’ve already asked one, and I answered. I’m being more than generous with you, considering the circumstances.”

“The circumstances being that you can’t handle a little friendly competition.”

“On the contrary, I adore competition in most cases.” L took another long swig of coffee. “What I can’t stand is when someone makes a lucky guess and acts on it without first confirming their suspicions.”

“So you know it was a guess. Why did you tell them you were suspicious of me, then?”

“I’m not going to answer that. Why did you call the anonymous tip line?”

“Matsuda gave me the number.”

“What is the nature of your relationship with Matsuda?”

“Why, are you jealous?”

“Please be serious, Amelia.”

She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “It’s a lot less than he seems to think it is. He was one of my students. I knew he was working with the NPA so I called him when the media stopped reporting on the Kira case.”

“I see. And why did it matter to you that the reports had stopped?”

“You said it yourself; it would be silly to act on my assumptions without confirming them, first. When the killings first started, I had enough information to start profiling him. When the reports stopped, I was left with no way of knowing if I was right. I didn’t want to wait for the case to be solved to find out.”

This, of all things, seemed to placate the detective. He finally tore his inquisitive gaze from her to look down into his coffee, swirling the contents pensively. “I figured it was something like that. So, you put all of your claims out there, as a shot in the dark to see if we’d respond and confirm you were correct. Is that right?”

“Yes, though the last bit I threw in just to get your attention.”

“I’m flattered.” he said dryly, hardly sounding flattered at all.

“I’m sure.”

There was a pause, through which both nursed their rapidly cooling coffees.

“Your last name will remain a secret,” L said, still avoiding looking directly at her.

“And you believe that will keep me safe.” It wasn’t a question, she knew the answer.

“Relatively. Unbeknownst to the task force, I contacted the media a few weeks ago to request some changes to their reporting, in order to run a few experiments.”

“I assume you chose several high profile cases that had yet to be reported, and asked the media to report them under different circumstances. I’d probably choose to do one with a false first name, another with a false last name, and another reported with their birth name -- but only after legally changing their name.” She rattled off her thoughts, unable to contain the giddiness she always felt when discussing cases. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “And, if I were you, I’d do the same for faces. False photos, partially obscured photos, digitally altered photos, and an old photo of one who had gotten plastic surgery.”

“That is correct.” He leaned away as she pushed forward, keeping the distance between them. “Though I cannot disclose all of my findings, I can tell you that Kira needs both a first and last name to kill.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Yes.”

More silence.

“I believe this conversation has been enough to convince me that you are not Kira, nor are you working with him.” L explained. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a series of photographs. “But, in the interest of being thorough, I’d like you to review these images.”

They were photographs of handwritten notes, each containing a strange message. “Huh, those are some weird poems,” she mused.

“Yes, they’re quite peculiar.”

“I take it these are Kira victims?”

“Yes, all of them died of heart attacks moments after completing the letters.”

She glanced over them again, mentally trying out a few cyphers to see what worked. It wound up being the most simple of them; she merely had to read the first character on each line. “L, did you know…” she muttered. “Huh, a direct challenge. A bit early in the game for it. Then again, you did provoke him pretty early on.”

“Unless your muttering is going to help you think, I am asking you to stop.”

She rolled her eyes, but continued in silence. She shuffled them around, putting them in an order that made more sense. L watched her intently, his thumb thoroughly abusing his lower lip. They stayed like this for a minute or so. Finally, she laid the photographs out on the table between them. She leaned her elbow on the table, as well, resting her chin in her open hand. Her eyes scanned over him expectantly, as if to say ‘There, I solved your dumb riddle. May I please go now?’

“Do you find something off about that sentence?” he prodded.

She remained silent, staring at him pointedly.

He sighed. “Yes, you’re allowed to speak now.”

She quirked a brow.

“ _And_ ask questions.” His brows lowered, eyes glossing over as if having to speak with her was the most mind-numbingly dull experience of his life. 

_How dramatic,_ she thought.

She smiled broadly. At least, if she had to work with another detective, he was fun to mess with. She might get to have some fun, after all. “Well, it’s just that I’d expect it to say ‘L, did you know gods of death have red hands,’ or ‘love apples.’ Having both is a bit excessive. Is this in reference to some story or folklore about gods of death?”

“I researched gods of death after these notes were found. However, there were no mentions of apples or red hands.” He set his empty coffee cup down with a click. “Besides, the bit about the red hands was made up. I forged that note.”

“Because Kira would know it was fake, and might say something about it sounding weird.”

“Yes, just as you did.”

“So, does this increase your suspicions of me?”

L laughed softly, something Amelia could already tell he didn’t do often. “Though I disagree with your methods, I never had any suspicions of you. The ultimatum was for show. I needed the task force to understand the consequences of divulging information to outsiders. Mainly, Matsuda needed to be taught a lesson.”

“May I ask, then, why you are so certain I’m not Kira? I failed your test.”

“You failed it in a way I wouldn’t expect Kira to fail it,” he explained. “Besides, you’re far too stupid and reckless to be Kira.”

“Sometimes, you need to be stupid and reckless to get ahead.”

“Or to get yourself killed.”

“Sometimes, that’s one in the same.”

He replied only with a noncommittal “Hm…” and drained the rest of his coffee.

They left the room, Amelia having been the last one to be interrogated, and joined the others.

Watari entered, carrying a box of fake IDs for the task force to use while on the case.

“So, whenever you need to give your name to anyone, please use these fake IDs.” L instructed the task force. He gave Amelia a cursory glance. “And since you are no longer an officer, you won’t be needing a badge.” Then, he addressed the rest of the task force again. “Please refer to Amelia as ‘Irene,’ from now on.”

Amelia quirked her brow at her new monicker. Did that make L Holmes? She supposed it could have been worse, he could have called her Mycroft.

The members of the task force were outfitted with GPS tracking belts. Amelia couldn’t help but notice that she was not given one.

As if reading her mind, L said, “As you’ll be under surveillance, you won’t be allowed to leave the building. Therefore, the belt is unnecessary.”

She furrowed her brow, but decided not to push the issue. It wasn’t likely she could change L’s mind, so she decided to focus her efforts on winning back the task force. 

“Alright, let’s get to work!” She exclaimed in the most exhaustingly chipper tone she could manage. She may have laid it on thick for the sake of the task force, but she couldn’t deny that she was a bit excited. After all, despite the annoyances that brought her to this point, she was finally getting to work on the Kira case -- and get all the information on it that she could ever ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good night, Emi-ch--” Matsuda stopped in the hotel’s doorway. “I mean, Irene.”

“Night, Matsui.”

And with that, it was just her and L. Her, L, and the silence that hung over the room.

“So,” she began, “I’ll just go find a hotel, then.”

“No need.” L spun in his chair to face her. “I had Watari reserve you a room on the floor below us. Here.” He handed her a key card. “Room 1304.”

“Wow, lucky.”

“There’s no luck to it. You’re working for me, consider it payment.”

“I wasn’t talking about that. It’s an unlucky number. I was being sarcastic.”

“There isn’t time for jokes during an investigation, Miss Adler.”

She took the key card from his delicate grasp. “So you were referencing Holmes. You know, Holmes was pretty impressed by Adler, she changed his mind about a lot of things.”

L stood, towering over her with his face hovering inches away from hers. “And, if I recall, he started with quite a low opinion of her, just as I do. Your pseudonym is more than just a disguise; it’s a job, and quite a tough one, at that.”

“And what is my job, Ryuzaki?”

He leaned in even closer, entirely invading her personal space, though she refused to back down. “So far, I have concluded the following: you are childish, careless, stubborn, and naive. You refuse to back down from a challenge even when you know for a fact you are beaten, and what’s worse; you risked your career and possibly your life to deliver a smattering of entirely unfounded claims about Kira’s identity to an organization he may very well have ties to.” Finally, he leaned back. “You’re only here because the task force wouldn’t shut up about your profile. Like Holmes, I have quite a low opinion of you. Change my mind.”


	6. Common Ground

“Wouldn’t it be interesting if Kira were in there?”

These were the tantalizing words that met Amelia’s ears when she re-entered the living room of L’s Presidential suite.

She’d been holed up in one of the bedrooms, pouring over case files. Even though L had gone through his findings with the task force only a day before, he insisted that Amelia look through the evidence and reach her own conclusions.

“Or would you prefer to just guess who the culprit is? That does seem to fit your M.O.” He’d said.

As he was in front of the task force at the time, she’d had to hold back. Now, she stood in a hotel bedroom with stacks and stacks of case files scattered over the floor. All the info she had ever wanted was lying right there, in front of her.

And she hated it, because it meant she couldn’t join the investigation until she was finished reviewing it. She was only reminded further of her predicament when she left the room to get a refill on tea, catching the task force pouring over security footage of one of Kira’s victims.

_Wouldn’t it be interesting if Kira were in there?_

He’d said it like it was a direct taunt, as if to say ‘look at all the fun we’re having without you.’

“Irene, please, if you need to use the facilities be quick about it. I need you caught up as soon as possible,” L instructed her. “You’re missing out on quite a lot, as is.”

With a slight groan, she hurried over to the kitchen. “Can’t a gal grab a cuppa during an all nighter?” She asked him in English.

“Not if you want to finish your homework in time, _Iri-chan,_ ” he answered in Japanese.

The other task force members averted their eyes. Amelia glared daggers at the detective. It was plain to see the honorific was not a term of endearment -- he was talking to her as if she were a child. If he expected her to just lie down and take his petty attitude, he had another thing coming. So, he wanted to degrade her in front of the task force? Fine. She’d show them just how wrong he was about her.

… Despite him being entirely correct about her personality. But, she didn’t feel like thinking about that.

She plastered on the most feminine, saccharine smile she could manage and adjusted her posture. L might not be pulled in by womanly wiles, but he wasn’t the one she needed to convince.

“Oh, how cute! I don’t know much about honorifics," Her voice bordered dangerously on a flirtatious purr, something she noticed the task force reacted positively to. "But… does this mean I get to call you Ryuu-kun?” she clasped her hands together, tilting her head girlishly. 

She noticed how Matsuda spit out a bit of coffee at that one.

“No,” L deadpanned. “Now, unless you wish to hold up our progress any further, I suggest you go back to your room.”

Amelia laughed, her tittering tone a far cry from her natural belly laugh. She grabbed a mug and a tea bag from the counter. “Oh, you sound like my dad! ‘Go to your room, missy!’ Haha! I’ll be on my way, then.” She smiled, giving a small bow to the task force. Heading to the bedroom, she turned over her shoulder to give the task force a sly wink. “Don’t catch Kira without me, ok?”

She didn’t wait to hear L’s response.

Back in the room, the piles of case files laid out like a labyrinth. As she passed the bed, she grabbed her walkman and pair of headphones that had been lying there, putting on the headphones and blasting the worn out cassette tape she had affectionately labeled ‘thinking music.’ She danced around the papers, careful not to disturb them, and muttered to herself as she hopped from file to file.

“Alright, so Kurou was likely the first victim.”

Hop.

“And after that, Kira started killing higher profile victims.”

Hop.

“The victims come from all over the world. Some were recently convicted, others had been in jail for years. Blah, blah, blah… Kanto region blah, blah, blah...”

Hop.

“L showed me photographs of prisoners who wrote suicide notes before dying of heart attacks. The notes were a direct taunt, proving that Kira can control his victims before death.”

Hop.

“Kira’s killing pattern changed after the NPA deduced that he was a student, though that information was never released. So, Kira has access to NPA records.”

Hop.

“Oh, here’s that list of top students in Tokyo I asked for. Number 1, Yagami Light.”

Stop.

“Wait, isn’t that the chief’s kid? Oh dear, that _is_ suspicious.”

Hop hop.

“FBI agents were sent to monitor 12 suspects.”

Including Yagami Light.

“Dammit, hold on…” she shook her head. “Confirmation bias. Let’s focus, Ami.” Sighing, she plodded over to the next pile of pages, the spring in her step gone. “Time of death for all 12 FBI agents, all heart attacks. 

“Hm, this one just says ‘don’t come out until you’ve finished your deductions.’ Alright then, I guess that’s all the info we have.”

But wait… hadn’t they been reviewing footage of an FBI agent’s death when she had gone to get her tea?

“That’s it!” She jumped up at the revelation, spinning around carelessly and spilling hot tea down the front of her blouse. “Ow-ow-ow!”

Raye Penber, the last agent to die, had been holding a manilla envelope in the footage -- at least, until he collapsed on the subway platform. Kira had needed that envelope, probably in order to kill the other agents. It likely held data on their faces and names. That meant Kira had to have made close enough contact with Penber in order to ascertain that he was an FBI agent, one of the 12 that had been sent out by L. He’d only been in charge of tailing two suspects. She racked her brain, trying to remember the names of the 23 suspects. Who had he been watching…?

_Oh._

Oh dear, now that _was_ interesting.

Amelia emerged from the bedroom hours later, hair mussed and tea staining the front of her blouse. Hardly the image of herself she wanted to portray to the task force. She quickly buttoned up her blazer to hide the stain, and ran her fingers through her hair. 

“Good evening!” she crowed. “Or, is it morning?”

“It’s morning,” came L’s low monotone. He was speaking English.

“So, the task force is gone.”

“Have you finished your deductions?”

“Yes. Are you going to brief me on what happened yesterday?”

“Not until you go over your findings with me.”

Amelia sighed, collapsing into the couch across from where L sat. “Kitamura or Yagami. Anything else would be redundant.”

He hesitated, just slightly. “You couldn’t have reached that conclusion only with the evidence I gave you.” His tone was even, but she could read the accusation behind his words.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t eavesdropping, though I will admit I ended up gaining an advantage.”

“When you came in for tea…”

“I saw the footage you were reviewing, yes.”

“Hm.”

“Indeed.”

Then, silence. L turned back to his computer, typing away lazily with one finger. Amelia stood up and stretched.

“I suppose the task force will be here soon?” she asked.

“Yes, in about thirty minutes,” he answered.

“I guess I’ll go clean this shirt, then. Can’t be smelling like old tea.” Just before she left, she padded over to L, her arms crossed over her chest and gaze flitting between him and the carpet.

If L didn’t know any better, he’d say she was feeling shy.

She grumbled, hardly shy, but definitely ticked that she felt the need to do this. Yes, he was obnoxious, but he had given her a shot at working on the case. She knew he didn’t have to do that. So, despite the petty voice screaming in the back of her mind to turn around that instant, she chose to say “Thanks for giving me a chance, Ryuzaki.”

He blinked at her, the closest he’d allow his face to come to showing his confusion. “Is that all?”

She grimaced, nervously rubbing her arms with each opposite hand. “Well, no. I have another stupid, careless, unfounded claim to make.”

He sighed, ready for the worst. “Well, let’s hear it.”

“I don’t think it’s Kitamura.”

Well, that was unexpected. Not entirely impossible, but unexpected, nonetheless. For the second time in one day, L hesitated. He stared at her as if he’d seen her for the first time, owlish eyes widening just a fraction as he took her in. “Nor do I, Miss Adler.”

She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure what to make of the change in his demeanor. “Well, I guess I’ll be going then…”

“Yes, good night, Miss Adler.”

That got a small smile out of her. Despite its origins, she had started to warm up to her new title. “Night, Holmes.”

As he watched her leave, L found himself releasing the tension he had been unknowingly holding in his shoulders. Had something about her confession relieved him in some way? He paused, thinking on it for a moment. He concluded that, yes, he’d been tense ever since hearing about Naomi Misora’s disappearance. And, while the wound of her likely death still stung, he’d been in need of some good news, for once. Amelia’s suspicions of Light Yagami mirrored his own, a welcome change from the vehement disbelief he’d received from the task force. Yes, what he was feeling was relief at having someone else on his ‘side,’ so to speak.

Amelia MacCarthy, or Emilia McCarthy, was everything he’d described; she was far from the ideal partner. And yet, in an investigation where he felt -- more than ever -- entirely alone, she was a welcome change of pace. He might just find use in keeping her around, after all.


	7. Surveillance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was going to win out? Her pride, or her desire to win against him whenever possible?

If the task force noticed that Amelia was wearing the same clothes she had worn the previous day, they did not mention it.

 _Thank God for that Japanese politeness,_ she thought.

As instructed just before the task force arrived, Amelia had moved to the new hotel in which L was staying. She sat in front of a monitor displaying live video feed of the Yagami household. L perched next to her, staring intently at the screen.

“Good morning, Irene. It’s good to see you,” Chief Yagami greeted her as he sat down. “I was under the impression that only L and I would be observing my household, though.”

“L and I talked last night,” Amelia lied, “I said it was inappropriate for him to observe the female members of your family when they were in certain rooms. I offered to be another set of eyes for those scenarios.” They had not come to anything resembling this sort of agreement. When Amelia re-entered the task force headquarters that morning, L had simply patted the chair next to him, gazing at her expectantly. He hadn’t even bothered to brief her on her cover story. She took advantage of her lie to add in a little jab at him, “He said it was a magnificent idea, and he was so very sorry for being such an inconsiderate dunce.”

L gave her a very significant look that said _‘One more word and I’ll make good on that promise to send you to jail.’_ but his mouth said “I don’t recall saying that last part. Perhaps it was you who had mentioned being a dunce? You were incredibly apologetic last night for your oversights on Kira’s criminal profile.”

Satisfied with Amelia’s explanation, and direly wishing to cut through the palpable tension that was rising between the two detectives, he nodded to them both. “All of that aside, I appreciate having a woman help with the surveillance. Thank you Ryuzaki, Irene.”

“Of course,” Amelia nodded to him, as well. “It’s hard enough to have your family under suspicion. So I--”

“According to the person who installed the cameras, Light has set up ways of telling if someone has entered his room,” L interrupted.

“Oh,” Amelia mused, cursing his sitting position as it did not allow her to kick his shins under the table. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Did they set everything back up the way they found it?”

“They tried to, but I believe they might have missed something,” L said.

“Why is that?” Chief Yagami sounded worse for wear. Having his son under suspicion must have been trying. “I didn’t realize he went to such lengths… Is there something in there that he wants nobody to see?”

“Light hesitated when he opened his bedroom door,” L explained. “I believe he may have left a hair or something similar on the knob that was missed during the installation of the surveillance devices.” Suddenly, he tore his eyes away from the screen, addressing the Chief. “And there is no need for worry yet, Asahi-san. He’s 17, this isn’t that unusual. I’ve done it myself, for no reason at all.”

“Are you sure you’re the proper litmus test for what qualifies as normal teenage behavior?” Amelia asked, giving his strange, crouching form a sideways glance as he devoured yet another slice of cake. It was his third that morning.

“I am flattered you regard me so highly,” he retorted, “but I am, of course, as human as you are.”

“Human? And here I thought you were justice,” she muttered under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh! Nothing.”

L contented himself with one more icy stare before he had considered the argument won -- in his favor, of course. He turned to address Chief Yagami, who seemed to be at a loss between the two arguing detectives. “Oh, I hear your son is interested in the Kira case, and following it closely. Have you ever shared any information with him?”

Chief Yagami balked at the accusation, refuting the claim and providing his alibi. “I’ve hardly been home since the case started, and when I’m there, all I do is sleep.”

Very little else happened during the day, until Light came home that evening. He selected a magazine hidden in his bookshelf -- one with scantily clad women adorning the cover.

“This is the last thing I ever imagined my son doing…” The Chief said in disbelief.

“Yeah, I think I’d like to skip this bit of observation.” Amelia blushed, averting her eyes. “Should I go get us some coffee?”

“If you think you’re going to catch him masturbating,” L said without any hint of embarrassment, “you don’t need to worry. It looks like he’s making a show of saying ‘I was checking if anyone entered my room because I have books like this stashed inside.’”

Amelia stammered, “W-well, don’t blame me for not wanting to see that!”

“Why are you embarrassed?” L asked sincerely, “You’re letting your emotions get in the way of your work. Besides, I’m certain you’ve had intercourse before.”

“Ryuzaki!” Chief Yagami shouted, “that’s inappropriate!”

L looked to the Chief, perplexed. He had never been great at determining what was ‘appropriate.’ Was this one of those instances? He glanced at Amelia, who was blushing profusely. Then, he looked behind him. Watari was always a good gauge for any social cues he might have missed.

Watari did not look pleased, so that was a bad sign.

“... Apologies,” L muttered reluctantly, sending a curt nod in Amelia’s direction.

“Uh… no problem. It’s fine,” she answered.

And so the three of them watched Light casually read through a prono magazine, as if he were perusing some dissatisfactory essay on particle physics. He then joined his family downstairs for dinner. A K-pop concert blared on their TV.

“Watari, tell all of the TV stations to run that news special.” L ordered.

 _“Interpol will be sending 1,500 FBI agents to Japan…”_ the TVs announced to each household.

Amelia watched in amazement as Light openly mocked L’s plan. _This is insane,_ she thought. _He’s so prideful that he can’t let this slide without giving some kind of commentary! Hardly damning evidence, but I think we’ve got our guy._

She stole a sideways glance at L. He was smiling with his thumb pressed to his bottom lip. So, he shared her thoughts.

“Your son is very intelligent,” is all he said.

They watched as Light left the dinner table and headed to his room to study. Amelia made a few remarks on the behavior of the other household members, just to keep up appearances. However, her eyes never fully left Light. She noted that he grabbed a snack from the cupboard before heading upstairs. This was strange in and of itself, seeing as he had just eaten, but the snack raised its own suspicions.

“Bleugh, barbeque crisps,” she stuck her tongue out in distaste. “Chief Asahi, does your family really eat those?”

As casual as the question sounded, her intense stare hinted that there was more to her query than light conversation. She’d noticed that Light had brought in the bag of chips when he came home. It appeared to be the only thing he purchased.

But, the shopping bag they were in was too large to have just contained one measly bag of chips. Something was amiss, and she was determined to find out what it was.

“Well, no. Our family usually eats regular chips. Sometimes, we get sour cream and onion. Sayu likes them.” He was sweating from the stress, now. “But, I don’t see what my son’s chip tastes have to do with the case! My son isn’t Kira!”

“Ryuzaki,” Watari approached them with a case file in hand, providing the now irate Chief some relief from the conversation. He reported several deaths to them, all of which were only found on the news report that the Kitamura family happened to be watching at the same time Light was up in his room, studying like the perfect student he was.

Of course, Chief Yagami took this to mean that his son’s name was finally cleared. Amelia frowned at the news. As much as it pained her to see the Chief so distraught, she still wasn’t convinced she’d been wrong about Light.

L didn’t seem convinced, either. He explained that Light’s behavior that evening had been odd enough to not completely remove him from suspicion. Plus, the criminals that were killed that evening were convicted of fairly minor crimes -- not like Kira’s usual targets. The surveillance would continue.

Amelia watched as her prime suspect settled in for the night. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about him. She nodded slightly to herself, steeling her resolve. There was something she needed to do, and she could already tell that Chief Yagami would not be receptive to the idea. She would have to rely on L, as much as that displeased her. 

She made a show of sighing and standing from her seat. “Well, he’s asleep now. I’m going to grab a cuppa. Holmes, do you want one?”

L blinked at the nickname, recalling their previous conversation and picking up on the code -- she needed to speak with him alone. “Yes, that sounds nice. I’ll join you. Asahi-san, please keep an eye on the monitors, and let me know if anyone gets up for any reason.”

Once they had reached the kitchen and closed the door, Amelia could finally unleash the grin she had been hiding. She could feel that the chase would very, very soon be on. She babbled excitedly in English, trying to keep her voice low so as not to alert the others. “Right, so about those crisps. Light left the house today, yeah? And when he came back, he had this biiiiiig old shopping bag, holding one measly little bag of crisps! I know that’s not enough to convict someone, but I think he purchased more than just a snack while he was out.”

L made a thoughtful hum in the back of this throat. “I don’t think we’ll be able to obtain a record of purchases made at the convenience stores near the Yagami household at this hour. Even then, if he paid in cash, they won’t have any record of Light, himself, purchasing anything.”

“Then let me check out all the convenience stores within walking distance!” She was practically vibrating with excitement, making it harder and harder to keep her voice at the hoarse whisper she was using. “I can see what items they sell. I know it’s not anything we can connect to Light, but we could at least get an idea of what he was doing.”

Another thoughtful hum. “Alright, but take Watari with you.”

She grinned, ready to take her leave, but stopped short. There was something she needed to address. There had been a war going on inside of the woman ever since L’s comment about her sex life. What was going to win out? Her pride, or her desire to win against him whenever possible?

“Oh, and Holmes?”

“Yes?”

“You were wrong, earlier. I’m a virgin.”

‘Desire to win’ it was, then.


	8. Flirting, Perhaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whew! 8 chapters in two days haha. I wanted to get to the point where they started interacting in something a bit more akin to friendship, so you all have a better idea of the gist of this fic. I'll be making weekly updates from this point forward.

Now that she’d spent a couple of days with him, riding in a car with Watari felt a little bit like going on a road trip with her dad. She’d insisted on riding alongside him in the front seat, this time. She didn’t like being chauffeured.

There were two convenience stores within walking distance of the Yagami household -- one, if Amelia hadn’t suspected that Light would travel further to avoid frequenting his usual stops. The uniforms had been Watari’s idea. She liked Watari.

“Excuse me, sir,” she had addressed the shops’ owners, “we’re with your suppliers, Pesi Co. We need to take some inventory so we can fill your next month’s order.”

They had scoured both of them, taking a careful inventory of every item for sale. In a particularly bold move, Watari had taken each store owner into their back office, giving Amelia ample time to check the register for records of the day’s sales.

Amelia had also purchased boxes of candy and a few sodas from each, as well as a few novelty t-shirts and pajama bottoms. Now, it was time to drive back to headquarters.

After a few moments of silence, Watari spoke up. “I’m sorry about Ryuzaki’s behavior, earlier.”

“Oh, is this about the bit with the magazines? Listen, it’s ok. He apologized.”

“I meant more…” he paused, looking for the right word. His mustache twitched slightly. “In general. I know he’s been hard on you.”

She thought about that. Sure, he’d said he held a low opinion of her. But, then again, he _had_ just let her take his most trusted comrade on a ride to the other side of the city. And, she’d been tasked with helping him monitor his prime suspect.

“I don’t think he dislikes me or anything,” she admitted, “I think that call I made just got his knickers in a bunch.”

“Hm, yes, he was right pissed when he read the transcription.” Watari laughed. It was a hearty, smoky sound, like a good whiskey.

“I’ll bet,” she laughed, too. “I would have been pissed, too. To be honest, I was only about 40% sure of what I was even saying. I figured I’d be allowed to consult on the case if I gave a sufficient profile on Kira, then I’d be able to use whatever information the NPA was willing to part with to do some real work. I never imagined I’d be right on all accounts.” She sighed, sinking into the leather seat. “Still, I know it was reckless. If the NPA had been naïve enough to take my profile and run, they could have been steered in the wrong direction. It was just a lucky guess, nothing more.”

“Let me tell you a secret, Irene.” He grinned, leaning sideways as if to whisper to her while keeping his eyes on the road. “L always starts his investigations with a lucky guess.”

She smiled all the way home. Maybe she could change his mind, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

L felt searingly cold metal press up against his neck. He shot up out of his chair with a gasp, vaulting over the seat and taking his assailant to the ground in one fell swoop. He straddled the fiend, pinning their wrists down with great force. He glared into their eyes…

Only to find that it was Amelia, lying helplessly on the floor with two cans of soda clutched in her hands, her fingers turning purple from lack of circulation.

“I brought you a drink,” she said weakly. The force of being knocked to the ground had driven the wind out of her lungs.

He lifted his hands, but did not get up. Taking the can from her hands, he inspected it. “Was Watari with you when you purchased this?”

“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “And he watched me like a hawk, I didn’t stick any syringes in it or dust the lid with poison.”

“Hm, good.” He opened the can with a careful finger, taking a tentative sip of the drink. “Strawberry.”

“I’m under the impression you like those.”

He glared at her, still sitting on her torso. “Who told you that?”

“No one. I just watched you eat your weight in strawberry shortcake today.”

If incoherent grunts from L were currency, Amelia felt she might have enough by the end of this investigation to buy the hotel they were staying in. He took another gulp of soda.

“So…”

Another grunt. This one sounded a bit like ‘what?’

“Usually I expect someone to buy me dinner before they straddle me like this.”

He looked down at where he was sitting, as if just now registering their position. “I thought you were a virgin?”

“Don’t be obtuse, it was a joke.”

“I’ve paid for your hotel room,” he said, his usual monotone taking on what was dangerously close to a teasing quality. And was that the ghost of a smile she saw? “I think I’ve earned another hour of this, at least.”

“That you did.” Then, she laughed. Not the high, tittering laugh she used around the task force. This was a deeper, throaty laugh that shook her core -- and L along with it. “I wish I had your poker face. I can’t tell if you really don’t understand what I was implying, or if you’re flirting with me.”

He leaned over her, taking in her slight blush with an impish smile. Something about watching her squirm so helplessly sent a jolt of satisfaction through him. The more she blushed, the more he felt like he was winning. Perhaps this was another game he could play against her. 

“I’d call it a joke.” His breath tickled her nose, he was so close. His breath smelled like coffee and a hint of strawberry soda.

“I-I thought there wasn’t time for jokes during an investigation.”

He seemed to genuinely consider that for a moment. “Hm, I suppose you’re right.” Then, as quickly as he’d pinned her, he was on his feet again. “Perhaps it was flirting,” he muttered as if he were observing someone else’s behavior. Now he had a name for this attack he was planning on launching on his new semi-friendly adversary.

Amelia pulled herself to her feet, opened her own can of soda, and took a swig. “Well, get back to me when you figure it out. I expect a full report.”

His eyes raked over her, watching intently as she flattened out the hair he had mussed so thoroughly. She was recovering. That was unacceptable. “Unfortunately, you are my type…”

This took Amelia by surprise. She gagged, choking on her strawberry soda. “Ahk! P-pardon?”

 _Much better,_ he thought.

L wanted to wrap up the game while he could come out on top (no pun intended) at least for that night. He feigned innocence, looking over to her with a thumb hovering over his lips. “Ah, that is to say, I will keep my interactions with you strictly professional from this point forward.” He bowed slightly. “Thank you for the soda. Please, if you feel comfortable, I would like to discuss your findings at the convenience stores.”

“Uh… sure.” She pulled out her notebook. “I highlighted the items that stood out as potentially useful for Kira’s motives.” She looked away, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. “I actually uh… color coded it, for any items that could be used in conjunction.”

“Thank you, Miss Adler. I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”

“Sure…” 

And so, she stood there, staring at her soda. She was completely unsure what to make of L’s sudden change in demeanor. The playful nature wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, she found herself still reeling from what she hoped was her own excitement at finding some common ground with the detective. She didn’t want this new game to end. That light, heady feeling was unusual for her, and yet she wanted to do whatever she could to keep it around.

“Listen, Holmes…”

Again, a grunt was her only response. This one said ‘I’m listening.’

“You don’t have to stop joking around with me… o-or flirting.” Her face grew hotter by the minute. Once again, she found herself nearly apologizing to L. She hoped this wouldn’t become a habit of hers. “I was doing it, too.”

He considered that, too. That was good, he didn’t want this game to be entirely one-sided. “I suppose you were.”

“It’s just how I joke around. I think I kinda bring that out in people.” She hesitated, then held her hands out in front of her and waved them about in surrender. “Not that I think people find me attractive or anything! Uhm… I just like… I like getting to have witty banter, ya know? Just a... cheeky banter.”

Ah, something was different. She seemed more uncomfortable, now, and it wasn’t his doing. It wasn’t as fun when it wasn’t his doing. He decided to extend an olive branch. 

So, in the most incredible chav accent Amelia had ever heard, L said: “Jussa cheeky bant wiff the lads, eh?”

Not to be outdone, she answered in turn. “Yeh, guv. A lil’ cheeky bant while we was neckin’ a pint.”

This earned a solid half smile from L, something Amelia thought she might be able to double by the time Kira was captured. And, just maybe, she’d gotten them a little closer to both goals that night. She grinned broadly as L looked over her notes.

“Hm… miniature plasma televisions,” he read.

“Precisely.”

“Just about how large are these televisions?”

“No bigger than a bag of crisps, I’d say.” She pulled another page from her purse; the list of the day’s transactions. “I checked a store that was a bit further away, as well. I thought Light would probably avoid his usual stops if he thought he was being watched.”

“Hm, yes.”

She rolled her eyes. Another grunt for the vault. “I was able to print a report of every transaction they made that day.” 

That got his attention back on her. "And you're only telling me this now?"

"I wanted to see if you'd put it together without me spoiling it for you."

"That's withholding evidence, it's a crime."

"Well sure, but it's more fun this way!" Waving the paper in front of his face, she sang “and guess who likes plasma screens, glue, and barbeque crisps?”

There was that half smile again. “We both know the answer, Irene. No need for the theatrics.”

“No-one,” they said in unison.

“He used cash, just like you said.” Amelia sighed. “So, there’s no proof but --”

“It does weaken his alibi, yes.” L delicately took the page from her hands, glancing over the contents. “Light will be up soon, please go wake Asahi-san.”

And so she did, the second day of observation passing much like the first. They agreed not to tell the Chief about their findings, none of it was substantial enough to place his son under further suspicion.

But _they_ knew, and for now that was enough.


	9. Chapter 9

The next two days were even less eventful than the first. Light watched the news, studied, and criminals kept dying. The criminals that were killed had been on the news programs he had been watching, but there was no evidence of a murder weapon. No strange phone calls, either.

Amelia only took breaks to change clothes. She rotated the same three t shirts and pyjama bottoms that she’d bought from the convenience store, not bothering to take the time to worry about retrieving her clothes from her apartment. L took no breaks at all. The only chance they had to speak candidly was when the Chief slept for three or four hours each night.

"I hate this," she said one night. They were surrounded by empty candy wrappers and mugs of coffee. Light slept soundly through the night.

"Perhaps a change of scenery would be beneficial," L offered. "Why don't you monitor the Kitamura household with Matsui. Isn't he your… friend?"

“My friend?” Amelia thought about it for a moment. “No, I don’t use that term lightly. More like acquaintances. But, that’s not what I was talking about.” She leaned back in her chair, tossing a Malteser in the air to catch on her tongue. She missed horribly, forcing her to get out of her chair to pick it up before it left a stain on the carpet. “It’s like we’re doing two separate investigations; one that involves the task force, and one that just involves you, me, and Watari.”

He grunted in reply. She was starting to hate that. What she hated more, however, is how easily she was able to translate them after only eight days with him. Granted, those days had been almost entirely uninterrupted, she hadn’t even slept since surveillance started, but it bothered her nonetheless.

This grunt meant ‘Yes, I have noticed this, as well.’

“I understand they have misgivings about Light being Kira, but isn’t it a bit odd that we aren’t giving them all the info we have?”

“Hm.” ‘Bringing it up will only cause them to trust me even less.’

“Yeah, yeah, I know. They’ll just get mad if we keep insisting he’s the only suspect.”

“Hm.” ‘Indeed.’

“Yeah,” this time, she was the one with nothing to say. They passed the next few minutes in silence.

“Hey, Holmes?” she finally asked.

“Hm?” ’Yes?’

“If Light isn’t Kira, and we’re just trying to confirm our own bias… Maybe it’s good for both of us to have the task force around.”

“My thoughts exactly, Miss Adler," he muttered something just after this (it sounded a bit like 'so kindly stop reading them,' but she couldn't be sure), followed by “But, unfortunately I have to concede that I trust you more than the other members of the task force, so we’ll need to continue with this route.”

“Does this mean I’ve changed your mind about me?”

“Hm.” ‘Maybe.’ But, instead he said “No. I still believe that you are childish, careless, stubborn, and naïve.”

“Then why trust me?”

He ran a hand through his inky black hair, fixing her with a sideways glance. “Because I am also childish, careless, stubborn, and naïve.”

Then, he held his mouth open; their signal that he was ready for her to throw another Malteser into his mouth. She did so, watching in envy as he caught it effortlessly.

“Speaking of,” he said through his mouthful of candy, “I have a very stupid and careless idea.”

For L, 'stupid and careless' meant taking the cameras out of both the Kitamura and Yagami households. This handled the 'stupid' portion, and Amelia told him as such.

"But fewer high profile criminals have died since we started surveillance! He's already backed into a corner, we just need to break him!"

To which L replied "I have determined that no more pertinent information will come from this surveillance, you'll have to trust me."

"You're being stupid."

Which threw L for a loop. No one, not ever, had called him stupid before. After reminding her that he was technically her boss for the time being, and that her behavior was highly inappropriate, he allowed himself to chuckle about it later -- when no one was looking. She really was something else...

The 'careless' portion of L's idea came in the form of meeting Kira face to face at his college entrance exams.

"I believe I can provoke him to the point of slipping up," he explained.

"You're gonna get yourself killed, is what you're gonna do." Amelia replied.

"Hm, perhaps."

"Then don't go, dumbass."

Another new one. As funny as he found her insults, he couldn't keep letting this slide. "Dumbass…?"

Amelia huffed, sinking deeper into the couch upon which they sat. She hadn't slept in nearly a week, and she had been insisting upon using the couch as their base for late night operations, in case she fell asleep mid sentence like the last time.

"Miss Adler, I'm doing what's best for the investigation."

"Well, forgive me for preferring you don't die in the process, dumbass." The lack of sleep was making her crankier than usual.

"Don't call me that."

"Then don't get yourself killed."

"You know I can't promise that." His voice lacked any of the stern tone one might expect during an argument. Rather, he felt he was stating a fact. It didn't matter if the case cost him his life, he had successors for that. Perhaps if she knew about them, she wouldn't be so upset. "You're overreacting."

That little maneuver earned him a swift punch in the gut. Before he could regain his breath, she was gone.

She was going to call in a few favors. It was time for Emilia McKenna to get back into teaching.

L returned after the exams to find Amelia passed out soundly on the couch. Matsuda was poking at her with a look of concern painted over his features. Her hand unconsciously batted his away before coming to rest on the back of the couch, joining the rest of her limbs in being haplessly splayed out over the piece of furniture.

“Leave her be, Matsui,” L said as he kicked off his shoes. “It’s been over a week since she’s slept.”

“What!?” Matsuda stared in slack-jawed amazement at the detective. This was too much, even for L.

“She’s been helping me monitor the Yagami household,” L explained, “among other things.”

“... Other things!?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Matsui.”

“Did you ever think to dismiss her for the night? She looks as bad as you!” Matsuda may have only known Ameilia as his professor, but he had always known her to be very put together; she always wore suits to her lectures, and never let her long hair loose from its tight French braid. Now, said braid was coming unraveled, and the suit had been replaced by cheap pyjamas.

“It is not my job to take care of Irene, nor did I force her to forgo sleep. I gave her ample opportunity to do so and she refused. She’s an adult, she can make her own decisions.” He wasn’t usually one to get angry, but Matsuda was being ridiculous. Amelia could have gone to sleep at any time, and she could have asked Watari to have her clothes delivered to headquarters. She knew that…

Didn’t she?

“You’re right, Ryuzaki,” Chief Yagami said, turning in his office chair to face them. “She understands that, above all things, the case takes priority -- just as we all do. But, unlike the rest of us, you brought her here against her will.”

“I gave her a choice.”

“You gave her an ultimatum!” the Chief snapped. He took a deep breath, trying to lower his heart rate. Sometimes he wondered if the stress of the case would give him a heart attack before Kira did. “Something I’ve been uncomfortable with, from the start. I’m glad to hear you are trusting her to make her own decisions but… It’s quite possible she doesn’t realize that.” He stood, bowing slightly before heading to the kitchen. “I’m getting some coffee. Apologies for the outburst, Ryuzaki.”

L watched him leave, then flitted his gaze back to the sleeping woman on his couch, then Matsuda (who was glaring at him), then Watari. Watari understood people. Watari would know what to do.

Watari gave him a patient smile, and gestured towards Amelia with an open palm and an encouraging nod.

Dammit.

With a heavy sigh, L crept over to the couch and stared down at Amelia. He bent his knees, snaking one arm underneath her knees and the other behind her neck. She mumbled a bit, but did not wake up. Then, he stood, effortlessly lifting her from the couch and into his arms.

“Watari,” he said, “please ensure that Irene’s clothes are delivered to her room.”

“Of course, Ryuzaki.”

“Wait!” Matsuda called out as L carried her to one of the Presidential suite’s bedrooms. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking her to bed.”

“What!?”

“Gutter, Matsui,” L chided. “Unlike you, I’m not actively trying to have sex with every woman I meet.”

“Hey--”

But L couldn’t hear the rest of Matsuda’s complaint, he’d closed the bedroom door. Rolling his eyes at the man’s antics, he carried the unconscious woman to the bed.

Had he ever slept, this would have been his room. He didn’t entirely like the idea of sharing his bed, even if he rarely used it, but carrying her down to the lower floor to her room was unthinkable. If Matsuda thought him carrying her looked suspicious, he didn’t want to think how the hotel staff might react.

This wouldn’t have happened if she’d just gone to sleep sooner.

“Stubborn girl,” he muttered. The corners of his lips twitched upward a bit of their own accord. Strange, perhaps he had a sodium deficiency. He placed her gently on the bed, sliding his arms out from under her.

Or, he would have, had an unconscious Amelia not grabbed onto his arm just as he was retrieving it from behind her neck. She turned over on her side, facing away from him -- a move which pulled him down on the bed on top of her.

“Ah!” He gasped as he crashed into her.

Amelia may have been a heavy sleeper, but that was enough to finally wake her. She yelled, flailing her arms out to hit the unknown attacker.

L caught her hands expertly, pinning her down by the wrists. Once again, his face hovered over hers. He hadn’t expected them to wind up in this position a second time. “Sh, it’s just me,” he assured her.

“Holmes?” she asked, now fully awake. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my room, I couldn’t carry you all the way to yours.”

“C-carry me?” She blushed, turning her face away from his and struggling against his grip on her wrists. “Let go of me!”

“Of course,” he conceded, releasing her. His lips twitched again. Interesting, it appeared he found her antics amusing. He bookmarked the thought for later, this was no time to worry about social relationships.

“Did I… pass out on the couch?”

“That’s correct.”

She groaned, raking a hand through her hair. “That’s so embarrassing! I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

L furrowed his brow. He didn’t see a need for her to apologize. “The other members of the task force seem to believe that I was responsible for your lack of sleep, is that true?”

“What?” Amelia finally looked at him again. Her eyes still drooping with exhaustion. “No. You and I both know that I’d never let you make me do anything. I just… don’t always remember to take care of myself.”

“Hm.”

“I’m too tired to translate your grunts, Holmes.”

“Translate?”

She chose not to elaborate. “Well, since I’m awake now, I can head back to my room to sleep.”

“No need. The movers will be in and out of your room throughout the day, anyway. They’d wake you up.” Upon seeing the confusion on her face, he added, “I had Watari send for your things.”

“Oh,” she said lamely. “Uh… thanks.”

“It was nothing. Please, get some sleep.” And with that, he got up to rejoin the others.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she grumbled to herself, already fading from consciousness.

He couldn’t force back his smile, this time.


	10. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I said weekly updates from here on out, but I can't help it! I've never had this much of a fic written ahead of time and I just wanna share it with the world! I hope you like awkward flirting and very dense detectives. After all, that's kind of the whole premise of the fic, isn't it?

As far as Amelia and L were concerned, April couldn’t come fast enough.

Life with the task force had taken on a sort of mind-numbing routine. Even they had time to sleep, now that the case had ground to a near halt. Criminals kept dying, the task force kept investigating the deaths, and L continued his hunt for Naomi Misora’s body.

He didn’t question whether she was alive, but some closure would have been nice.

He dismissed the task force whenever it was apparent they would make no further progress that day, an occurrence which seemed to happen earlier and earlier each day, until working on the Kira case became a 9 to 5 job. Amelia would leave with the rest of the task force, retreating to her room downstairs, and L would be left alone.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he actually felt a bit lonely without Amelia… and the others, of course.

February 14th arrived, more than two weeks since the college entrance exams. Two weeks since L felt he had made any progress on the case. Still, the holiday seemed to increase the team’s morale, which was good -- though Matsuda’s prattling on about his social life, he could have done without.

“So, do you think she likes me?” Mastuda prodded Amelia for answers. It seemed he’d given up on pursuing her after she’d turned him down for drinks for the eighth time, several days ago. Never one to be deterred, he’d already moved on to his next target. Amelia was grateful for the change.

“I don’t know, romance sort of eludes me,” she answered. “Valentine’s day is coming up. Why don’t you get her something?”

“Well, I want to, but not yet! In Japan, we wait until White Day for the men to give gifts to women they like.” He scratched the back of his head shyly. “Besides, today is Valentine’s day.”

This news caused Amelia to jump from her seat. “Oh no! I can’t believe I forgot!” 

In a flash, she fled the suite, slamming the door behind her. The task force watched in confusion.

“Do you think she has a date?” Aizawa asked.

“Absolutely not,” L answered a little too quickly for his liking. No, it was a safe assumption; she had just admitted to not being well-versed in romantic relationships. However, he couldn’t be sure. Despite his earlier promise of constant surveillance, he had not checked the cameras in her room in weeks. It was possible she’d even left the hotel at some point. He couldn’t entirely rule out the possibility of a suitor.

“Maybe that’s why she turned me down,” Mastuda moped.

“She wouldn’t leave early for something as pointless as a date,” L said.

“Dates aren’t pointless!” Matsuda argued, ever the hopeless romantic.

“Actually, I have to leave at six for a date, myself,” said Mogi.

“Me too,” Aizawa added. “My wife’s expecting me.”

“I’d like the chance to celebrate with my family, as well,” Chief Yagami said.

“Aw, man!” Matsuda groaned. “Am I the only one without a date today? Well, besides Ryuzaki, of course.”

Before L could take offence to that statement, Amelia burst into the room carrying a tray of sweets.

“I can’t believe I let the time get away from me!” She apologized. “I’m just glad I had the good sense to make these yesterday.” Grinning, she placed the tray on the coffee table in the center of the room. “I made enough for everybody. Please, dig in! Happy Valentine’s Day!”

As falsely chipper as she was around the task force, this gift was not a bid to manipulate them into liking her. She had watched them give up time with their families and loved ones to solve what was turning out to be a fruitless case -- at least for the moment -- and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for them. The least she could do was give them chocolates. After all, who would want to be away from their loved ones on Valentine’s Day?

“Thank you, Irene,” Chief Yagami said as he took a chocolate for himself. “These look wonderful. I wish you could teach my daughter how to make chocolates as pretty as these!”

“Maybe I can come over and show her, sometime.” _And get a chance to spy on your son some more,_ she thought. “They’re all different flavors, you’ll have to guess which one you’re gonna get. It makes it kind of fun!”

The chocolates were perfect little mounds, glazed with tempered chocolate and dusted with powdered sugar. She hadn’t used any molds or special techniques, but she had to admit the many rows of identical chocolates did have a nice effect. They were filled with flavored ganache; some were green tea, some contained peppermint or caramel, and still others were…

“Strawberry,” Chief Yagami observed after taking a bite. “It’s very good!”

“T-thanks!” Her eyes briefly skirted over L as she bowed politely. She had to admit to herself that she’d chosen that flavor with the lanky detective in mind. “There’s really no need for all the praise, I’m just glad you like them.”

Everyone else dug in soon after, giving their own remarks about the quality of the chocolates. Amelia blushed and thanked them when appropriate, waving off their compliments. L hung back, looking over the tray with a tentative interest.

“I promise they aren’t poisoned, Ryuzaki,” Amelia laughed. “I know you have a camera in my kitchen, you can watch the footage of me making them if it helps.”

“Hm,” he grunted. This one meant ‘That won’t be necessary.’ He picked one up, giving it a sniff before biting into it. He didn’t say anything, but the slight widening of his eyes before he scarfed down the rest of the chocolate was all the affirmation Amelia needed.

"Oh! That reminds me…" Amelia fished a red package from her purse and trotted over to Watari. "I doubt you ever get many sweets with this one around," she joked, gesturing in L's direction. "So, I made you your own batch."

"Oh!" This seemed to take him by surprise. "Thank you, my girl. They're lovely."

She could have teared up at that, no one had ever called her something as sweet as ‘my girl,’ before. She grinned, giving the older man a grateful hug. “And remember,” she teased as she pulled back, “Ryuzaki can’t have any.” For good measure, she turned over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at the detective.

He turned away from the task force, to ensure no one could see his face but her, and stuck out his tongue in response. He threw in a wink -- why not? No one would believe her, anyway.

She blushed, as usual, stammering for a moment. Stiffly, she returned to her desk and continued her work. She remained there for the next five hours, until the task force was dismissed for the evening. He almost felt bad for embarrassing her.

Almost.

Just before she began to pack up, however, she was interrupted by L’s hand on her shoulder.

“Irene, I’ll need you to stay behind to catch up on what you missed while you were out earlier.”

“Oh,” she replied with a small bow, “of course. Sure thing!”

It wasn’t until the rest of the task force had left that he addressed her again. “I thought we could go over our findings in private,” he said. “It’s been a while since we’ve been able to do so.”

She nodded in understanding. After all, they were the only ones remaining who still suspected Light Yagami. “Absolutely, though I’m not sure I have anything interesting to report.”

“Nor do I…” He stopped, fiddling with his lower lip for a moment before saying “but we should review what data we have, anyway.”

She smiled, though she wasn’t sure why the idea of rehashing old data was so exciting to her. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”

And so they sat, side by side, looking over data for the next five and a half hours. Each proposed a few alternate ideas upon re-examining their findings, but after a while they could no longer pretend that the data had anything new to offer them.

“I think we’re back where we started, unfortunately.” Amelia cast a sideways glance at L.

She had been looking at him more than usual today, L noticed. And, since there was nothing related to the case worth discussing any further, he decided to find out why. “Is something on your mind, Miss Adler?”

“Hm?”

“It’s my job to make the incoherent grunts, remember?”

That got a laugh out of her. It was a thick, deep laugh that always shook her and sent her face first into whatever surface was nearest. In this case, it was her desk she chose to rest her laughing face against. He liked that laugh, it was genuine.

“Promise not to make fun of me?” she requested.

“I don’t see any reason why I should,” he answered.

She sat up, taking a deep breath and opening up her purse. She fished around inside of it for a moment, before producing a tin box from its depths. The box looked as though it used to contain an opioid, if the label was to be believed. 

“It’s not opium,” she promised. 

He stared at the box curiously, then searched her face for answers to the many questions this conversation was raising.

“That’s just an old box I bought a while back. I thought… well I think it’s pretty cool, anyway.” She took off the lid before holding the box closer to him. She was looking anywhere but at his face. “I just… I thought… Ugh! What I’m trying to say is, when I was making the chocolates, I used some fillings that I wasn’t sure the task force would like.” Once she got going, she talked a mile a minute, as if waiting any longer to say her piece was unbearable. “And I thought ‘you know who would like guessing experimental candy fillings? Ryuzaki!’ A-and you took care of me the other day, so I kinda owe you. So uh… Here!”

Without any other warning, she shoved the box into his chest. He clasped his hands around it, noting how she flinched when his fingers brushed against hers.

"Are you giving me chocolates?" He wasn’t sure what to feel. He’d never received a gift for this particular holiday. He’d never been one to observe holidays at all, actually.

"You can't make fun of me!" she demanded, avoiding eye contact.

He craned his neck until he was able to get a good look at her face. As usual, anything resembling a romantic situation was sure to get Amelia flustered. He smiled mischievously, poking her cheek. "And on Valentine's Day, of all days," he teased. 

"Stoooop!" She pleaded, burying her head in her hands.

He laughed softly, setting the chocolates down in favor of gripping Amelia's wrists. He tugged her hands away from her face, revealing her beet red complexion. "If I'd known you were going to try and woo me --"

"I'm never giving you anything again!" Amelia was at her limit. She curled up in her office chair, as if she could somehow cram her whole body into her baggy sweater.

L decided she wouldn’t be much fun if he pushed her too far. He sat quietly, releasing her hands, and watched her blush recede until she had calmed down. Schooling his face into a less obviously amused expression, he waited until she was ready to look at him again.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she finally said.

"Happy Valentine's Day." L realized that, perhaps, he didn’t mind holidays so much after all -- especially if they involved getting chocolates from cute women like Amelia. But, he was a bit lost at this point. What came next? 

His usual monotone tinged with the barest trace of uncertainty, he asked "would you like to share them?"

Amelia blinked, confusion evident across her features. Had he made the wrong move? Social relationships really were such a bother to him.

“I’d like that, thank you,” she finally said.

For a while longer, they pretended to work while taking turns plucking chocolates from the box. Then, when even they could not fool themselves into thinking they were making any progress, they decided to turn the chocolates into a game: whoever correctly guessed the most flavors would win. They ventured over to the couch, sitting at opposite ends with the chocolates sitting on the table in front of them.

"Hmm…" L pondered as he chewed through his bite, half the chocolate still delicately clutched in his fingers. The inside was pitch black.

"300 yen says it's squid ink."

"Nope, definitely black sesame."

"What?!"

"You owe me 300 yen. Pay up."

"No way! I can't even confirm if you got it right. I demand-- oomf!" A half eaten chocolate was shoved in her mouth, along with part of the detective's finger; the tip of which grazed her tongue and lips as it was pulled out. She tried very hard not to think about the way her throat caught at the feeling.

"It's black sesame," L said, "that'll be 300 yen."

At least reaching into her purse gave her an excuse to hide her blushing face. "Fine, you're right this time."

He smirked triumphantly, tracing a finger over his lower lip. If he happened to notice it was the same one that had just been in her mouth, he didn't make any indication of it.

“I’m always right,” he said.

“Not true!”

“Name a time where I have been wrong.”

“You didn’t know I was a virgin.”

His eyes danced away from her. Thinking in too much detail about her sex life, or lackthereof, brought an uncomfortable feeling to the pit of his stomach. This wouldn’t do. Time to change the subject. “Name a time where I have been wrong about something that mattered, then.”

She floundered a bit for an answer. She couldn't exactly argue that her sex life was important enough to warrant his attention, nor did she want to. “Well, if Light winds up being Kira, wasn’t I the one who pinned him, first?”

That was the wrong thing to say, evidently, as it earned her a pillow to the face and a huffy detective to contend with. “It will have been a lucky guess, in that case.”

“But I’d still be right!”

“And so would I, so it’s a moot point.”

Amelia pouted. “Yeah, well… I would have been right, first. I think that counts for something.”

"It does not."

"Stubborn boy."

"Stubborn girl."

She laughed, finding their banter much more enjoyable than 'winning' their little argument. "I think I should go get some sleep, can't have me passing out on the couch again."

"Hm…"

She wasn't sure what that one meant. They remained on the couch in silence until:

"Miss Adler, do you speak any French?"

"French? No, not really. I took German in school."

L sighed, "it'll have to do. You can assess the photographic evidence."

"You're doing that thing again."

"What 'thing?'"

"That thing where you assume I know where this conversation is going. I'm a fabulous detective," she joked and tossed her hair, "but I'm no mind reader."

"Ah, yes… Denuve has a case that needs attention, I can't put it off any longer. Please stay behind after we conclude tomorrow's work on the Kira investigation, I could use the help."


	11. Through the Cracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's where we start getting even more self indulgent than before. I know she's too smart, I know this is too fast. I don't care, and I hope you won't either, because it's fun despite its flaws. I'll save the constant editing and multiple drafts for my original fiction, this is just a pet project for shits and giggles. Hope you enjoy it.

"Pouvez-vous me passer ces papiers?"

"Holmes, for the last time, I don't speak French!"

Throughout the night, L had developed a habit of speaking to her only in French. She assumed it had something to do with the fact that all of the case files were in French, and perhaps he had trouble switching between languages so quickly.

Still, it irked her that she couldn't understand him.

"Ça ne fait rien," he said, reaching across her for the papers.

Amelia rolled her eyes, training her gaze back on the photographs in front of her. While L only took on high profile serial killers, it seemed he had some leeway under his other pseudonyms to investigate other crimes.

Learning that L was not only the world's greatest detective, but also the second and third runners up, greatly infuriated Amelia. Now, she had three detectives to beat. Though she admitted to herself that she was probably nowhere near being the world's fourth greatest detective, either. So, there was a lot of climbing to do now that she'd set her mind on competing with the owlish man sitting next to her. Honestly, the whole revelation was a real bummer.

But when L had told her she would be taking on one of Denuve's cases, she couldn't help but feel terribly flattered. It was all quite confusing. On one hand, her childish nature wouldn't allow her to so easily accept his offer -- she didn't want to owe any successes to her 'competition.' On the other hand… well, she never had really been able to say no to an interesting case.

In the end, it was no contest. That night's case surrounded the theft of a prized diamond specimen -- it was like something out of a novel.

The photographs showed various angles of the crime scene, as well as security footage of the days surrounding the theft. While she scoured the footage, L read through the case files and listened to witness reports. They worked as they usually did, side by side, with the occasional comment or theory shared between them. Of course, when they'd been surveilling Light Yagami, L was speaking a language Amelia understood.

"Ne sois pas si dur, mon ami."

"What did you just call me?”

"It's a pun," he explained. "Amelia, Amy, Ami."

"Oh, so you can speak English." She spat with an accusatory glare. She hoped he hadn’t just landed her with some sort of French insult as one of the many names he used for her.

L held his hands up in mock surrender, a shy smile spreading over his features. "Busted…"

She only chuckled, changing the subject. She didn't like how looking at his playful expression was sending knots twisting through her stomach. "Do any of the suspects the Parisian Police detained have moles on their necks?"

"Hm… no, though I do remember someone having one." His face grew serious once again as he flipped through the testimonials. "Ah! Yes, the janitor. Why do you ask?"

"That's the guy, then." She said confidently.

"Let me see." With no other warning, he clamored out of his chair to stand behind her, head resting easily on her shoulder. His hands planted themselves in his pockets.

"Uh…" there were those pesky knots, again. She could feel his hair tickling her cheek. "Well, if you look closely enough, you'll see that the footage skips just slightly when the janitor approaches the case. I think this is when he stole it. He must have used his clearance to get to the security tape and edit it."

"Hm, but this is three days before the diamond was reported missing."

"Yes, but…" She fast forwarded the footage a bit. "See how the light reflects a little differently on the diamond, here? I know this sounds dumb, but--"

"He made a replica."

"And then hired the police's prime suspect, M. Roland, to steal the replica three days later, yes." Amelia finished, smiling. She really did love being right.

L gave his typical hum in response, the low sound reverberating through his throat and tickling Amelia's shoulder. Though there was no need to look at the footage again, he did not move from his position.

"You sound awfully pleased with yourself," she accused.

"Hm." A ghost of a smile crept up through his features. She could feel his cheek shift against hers.

"... God dammit, Holmes! If you already solved the case, why did you just make me go through all this work?"

He laughed then, lighting every nerve in her body on fire as he pressed the side of his face into hers to whisper in her ear.

"Because it's fun. Isn't it, mon Ami?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Irene, can you please stay behind again tonight?” L asked her a few days later. This was the fourth night in a row he’d asked her to stay behind, and the task force was beginning to grow suspicious.

Aizawa looked at him questioningly. “Is there more we can do for the case tonight? If so, I’d like to stay behind and help where I can.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he explained. “Irene has been consistently late in her tasks, though they’re no more difficult than yours. I believe it’s most fair if she simply stays behind to catch up to the rest of us.”

The room went silent. Amelia spent the minutes waiting for the task force to leave trying to work out if she could get away with murdering the World’s Greatest Detective.

“Nice cover story,” she said mockingly once they were alone. “Are you too proud to say ‘Irene’s been helping me with my workload, because she’s talented and intelligent and I was completely wrong about her?’”

“Yes,” he said simply. "Besides, that isn't entirely true."

“As if honesty ever matters to you, Mr. 'five percent chance he's Kira.'” Amelia sighed, making her way over to what had recently become ‘her’ desk. It sat directly next to L’s workstation, so he could glance over her shoulder and make offhanded comments when he grew too bored with his own work.

He claimed it was because he wanted to ensure she wasn’t making any mistakes, but she knew better. Though he'd already solved the diamond case several nights ago, after much prodding he finally revealed that Amelia had solved it only fifteen minutes slower than he originally had. This obviously left a bitter taste in his mouth, which he chose to wash away by chastising her any chance he got.

“Perhaps I’d be more willing to sing your praises if you could solve your cases a little faster,” he teased. “I was doing better times than this when I was sixteen.”

She turned on him with a determined glare. “Oh, is that so? Well then, if you want me to work faster, I need to work my way.”

“Your way…?”

As her answer, she picked up the stack of case files that had been residing on her desk and flung them into the air. L marveled at the papers fluttering around him, plucking one from the air and holding it out in front of himself.

“Can you work with music, or should I grab my headphones?” Amelia asked as she walked past him. She grabbed the paper from him and threw it to the floor with the others. She tiptoed around the pages, scooting them into little piles with her stocking feet.

“Once I’m focused on my own work, I will hardly notice it," he assured her. This was… peculiar, to say the least. Then again, who was he to complain about strange behaviors?

“Great! Hope you like rock.”

And then L's ears were violently assaulted by the musical stylings of Blur. He winced visibly, a little miffed that he'd already agreed to this, in a way.

Seeing his reaction, Amelia turned down the volume until she could see the tension leave L's shoulders. It was quieter than she'd have liked, but it would do. She stretched, standing on her toes and pulling her arms high above her head. L tried not to stare as her sweater rode up, exposing her stomach and lower back.

He failed. He tried not to blame himself for this. After all, he had already admitted that she was his “type,” whatever that meant. So long as this minor attraction didn’t interfere with his work, he supposed he would allow it for now...

Her arms, and the sweater, too soon fell back into place. She looked to him, entirely unaware he'd been ogling her the entire time.

"So, let's get to it!" She said with a smile.

L watched on in amazement as the strange woman he'd allowed into his life danced and leapt across the hotel room, eyes trained on the papers strewn about the floor. Occasionally, she would pick one up and place it next to another, eventually creating little piles of what he assumed she’d deemed related bits of information. She continued like this throughout the remainder of Blur’s “Song 2,” and well into the second chorus of The Cranberries’ “Linger.”

All the while, she muttered to herself. They were little mental notes, such as ‘body found in lake on February 13th’ and ‘lake frozen over since November.’ It was a peculiar case he’d assigned her; one in which the time of death could not be determined so easily by measuring the body’s decomposition. A body of a rather wealthy and important person had been found beneath the ice at remote a skiing resort in the Swiss Alps. The police had no leads, as they could not pin down exactly _when_ the victim had died. It wasn't one of the high profile cases L would have taken on. In fact, even Amelia didn't see it as too challenging. But, it paid well, and he had to pay for these ridiculously lavish hotel rooms somehow.

Suddenly, she spun on her heel, a revelation striking her mid-dance. He was no stranger to odd methods, but he’d never seen a quirk quite so… entertaining to watch.

“Holmes?” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Are there any photos of the lake dating before January 8th?”

“I’m not sure I could chalk your solving of this case up as a ‘win’ for you if I help.”

She brushed past him, knocking into his shoulder slightly as she made her way to her laptop. “I was trying to be efficient, but arguing with you will cost me at least twenty-eight seconds.” Tapping away at the keys, she looked over her shoulder at the slouching detective. His curious gaze trained on the piles she had been constructing.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, looking back to the screen. “There we go. Holmes, get over here.”

“As I said--”

“I’m not asking for your help, I’ve solved it. Well… sort of.”

“Sort of?” He hadn’t been testing her on these cases so she could ‘almost’ solve them. What he needed was someone to keep up Denuve’s casework so that he could focus on Kira.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Just because I don’t have a name or face doesn’t mean I don’t know who the killer is.”

“I would say that’s nearly the exact definition of not knowing who someone is…”

“Just get over here!” she laughed, running up to him and grabbing onto his arm. She excitedly pulled him over to the desk, pointing at the screen. “See this photo? There’s something missing. In the photo of the crime scene, there’s a patch of ice right in the middle of the lake that’s a bit smoother than the rest. The local weather records show snowfall between November 3rd, when the lake first started to freeze over, and the date this photo was taken -- January 7th. The snow froze to the ice, giving it that rough appearance. The killer drilled a hole into the ice sometime after the snowfall stopped, which puts us between January 8th and February 13th.”

She pulled him along with her again, this time to a pile of photographs of the crime scene. “The patch of smooth ice is circular, like what you’d see after an ice fishing hole froze over. There’s only one shop in town that’s open this time of year, that rents this kind of equipment.

“And!” she said as she tugged him to another pile. At this rate, he was going to lose his balance. “The shop has pretty thorough records, and someone rented this tool -- it’s the only one in the shop -- on January 24th. No one else rented it between the dates I mentioned before.”

“The killer very well could have purchased this equipment elsewhere,” L interrupted.

“Well, yes, but then there would be two holes in the lake. There aren’t any other fishing spots within two hours of the resort.”

One last time, she pulled on his arm. He wasn’t expecting it, and had to grip onto her shoulder with his free hand to steady himself. She had pulled them away from the scattered papers, into a small clearing amidst the chaos he had somehow allowed her to reign in his temporary residence.

“So! Tell the police to talk to the shop owner, and arrest whoever rented that drill on January 24th. Dust for prints in case they used a fake name. That’s undoubtedly our killer.”

L gave her no praise, no accolades for solving a case a good five minutes faster than normal. Instead, she received a curt nod and a noncommittal grunt as he turned to look at Watari standing in the corner of the room.

He noted with some offense that Watari appeared to be sporting a smug grin beneath his thick mustache.

“Please call the police and give them that message,” he instructed. Watari nodded, leaving the room to make the call.

But, Amelia didn’t need a pat on the back to make her feel accomplished, the thrill of putting in those last few puzzle pieces was enough to send her into a giddy frenzy. “Whoo! Eight and a half minutes, excluding the time it took to walk you through my findings. That’s a new record, for me!”

“It was a relatively simple case.”

She only rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure. Well, if you’re scraping the bottom of the barrel for simple cases, does that mean there’s no more work for tonight?”

“Hm.” This one was a weary ‘yes.’ It seemed he was concerned about what she might propose to fill their remaining time.

A catchy, upbeat rock song started up through the stereo, spreading a manic grin over Amelia’s face. “Great! Then let’s dance.” And with that, she pulled him again. This time, she grabbed onto both of his hands and swung him around in a circle.

This was not what he had expected.

It was far worse.

“I don’t dance,” he explained as he tried desperately to regain his bearings.

“It’s ok, I’ll lead!” She flung him around the room in a series of elaborate spins, occasionally lifting his arm for her to spin under, herself. He found it easy to tell where she wanted him to go, with her hands guiding him expertly through the movements.

He cursed under his breath, a bit miffed at how easily she was able to control his movements, but more annoyed that he was allowing her to do so. Still, he did not stop her.

"I think it's best if we get back to work..." he began.

She laughed, twirling him once again. "C'mon, there's no more we can do tonight!"

"You're distracting me from the Kira case."

"Not every distraction is unwelcome, Holmes." The music sped up, as did their steps; hers practiced and precise, his stiff and uncertain. "Besides, you're always on a case. You have to let life slip in through the cracks when you can."

 _Let life slip in..._ He wasn't sure how to respond to that. Better to change the subject. “I wasn’t aware you did this sort of thing,” he spoke as she continued to spin around him.

“Second place at internationals in ‘97!” she boasted.

“Second place?”

“Yeah well, you can’t be first in everything.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Well,” she teased as she pulled him flush with her, “you’re certainly not winning any gold medals with this dancing.”

The song ended there, leaving him pressed up against her. Neither of them moved. To back down would be to admit defeat. He could feel her heart racing, or was it his? He mentally checked himself over: elevated pulse (that could be due to the dancing), tightness in throat (was he catching a cold?), warm face...

“Are you blushing, Holmes?”

Yes. “I am merely flushed from the effort of leaping around the hotel like an idiot.”

“It’s cute,” she said simply, as if every syllable weren’t twisting his insides.

 _You’re cute,_ he wanted to retaliate. That would show her. He needed to tilt this situation back in his favor, and quickly, but his tongue was tied.

“Cat got your tongue?” she asked with a wink, walking her fingers up his chest playfully. She’d been wanting to get him back for that first night of surveillance for some time. And, now that she’d gotten _him_ flustered for a change, she wasn’t going to back down for anything.

 _Please stop reading my mind._ L thought.

Where his words were failing him, his body did not. In a slightly desperate bid to reverse their situation, he slipped a hand around her waist and twisted them both in one fluid motion.

The next thing Amelia knew, she was looking up at the ceiling with L hanging over her, a smirk painted over his lips. He’d dipped her expertly, his broad hand splayed over her back the only thing holding her up. She let out an involuntary gasp, immediately cursing herself mentally for the lapse in control.

The impish glimmer in his eyes intensified as he watched her expression shift. He was back on top, both literally and figuratively.

“There,” he said smugly, “back as it should be.”

And then he dropped her.

“Son of a bitch!” she yelped. “You’re going down, Holmes!”

His eyes gleamed. Distracting though their game was, perhaps it was a welcome one. Perhaps he could allow just this small thing to 'slip through the cracks.'

“Then I suppose ‘the game is on,’ Miss Adler.”


	12. The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh we got some sexually repressed nerds, here. I wanted to play with the idea that L isn't entirely out of his depth when it comes to these things. He spends enough time studying people's reactions that I think he'd be able to consciously make an effort to play with someone like this (without realizing the consequences it has on him til it's too late muahahaha)

Amelia was just as childish as L assumed her to be. She could not stand losing, especially to as smug of an opponent as L. Unfortunately, he couldn't stand losing, either. What was worse, nothing ever seemed to phase him. This made the particular game he'd started with her nearly impossible for her to win.

For the past two weeks, L and Amelia had been engaged in what she could only describe as a battle of mental fortitude. At least, that's the only thing she wanted to call it.

Because calling it 'relentless flirting' made those uncomfortable knots start up again.

L used his superior intellect to identify every possible way to fluster the woman, all the while seeming entirely impervious to any attack she could launch at him, many of which backfired and left Amelia ever more embarrassed than before.

During the day, when the task force and Watari were present, she at least had some reprieve. L was hesitant to give away anything of their game to the others, because he was selfish and liked keeping secrets about his and Amelia's activities; something he would never admit aloud. But in the evenings, he was merciless.

For starters, he had dropped the use of any of their previously agreed upon monikers, referring to her only as 'mon Ami' or the much more embarrassing 'mon amour.' She was completely obtuse when it came to French, however, and did not understand his taunt. Dissatisfied in her lack of reaction, L took the liberty of translating the other moniker he’d bestowed upon her, causing her to blush amusingly every time he used it. Amelia had retaliated by calling him 'Mein Liebste.'

"It starts with an L," she had said in defense of the nickname.

"So does 'lover,' which is essentially what you’ve decided to call me." L had countered. Literally, it translated to 'dear,' but that didn't serve his wordplay very well. "Do you find it difficult to say it in your native tongue?"

She didn't speak to him for two days after that.

Then, came the physical taunts. He discovered (to his secret delight) that her neck was exceptionally sensitive. He often found excuses to brush his fingers against her pulse point.

"You have lint on your collar."

"Oh, I'll get it later-- eep!"

The color of her face was priceless.

Yes, Amelia may have called their first bout of flirting banter, but L had turned it into a challenge.

And she would not allow herself lose.

"Liebste," she said one night, turning away from her laptop. She'd been taking on more of Denuve's cases, helping L keep up appearances that they would still be operating while L was preoccupied with Kira. He still insisted on checking her work, but so far she had not been wrong. This made her quite cocky, which irked him, but he was glad to have fewer distractions from catching Kira.

"I'm hungry, can we take a break?" She held a hand over her stomach for emphasis, hoping he would not become wise to the plan she was setting in motion. It was time for payback.

And if anything could snap L out of his impregnable stoicism, it was food.

They crept into the dark kitchen, as if they were in danger of getting caught, as if L didn’t own all of the sweets in the fridge. There were cream puffs in the kitchen, she'd seen Watari bring them in. Of course, this is what she pulled out of the fridge for them to share. He ate them greedily, as he always did. It was only a matter of time until…

"You have a bit of cream on your face," she giggled.

The detective fruitlessly swiped at his lips, only serving to smear the cream over his cheek.

Bingo.

"Oh, not quite. Here, let me help you." Slowly, she made her way over to him, until she was standing mere inches in front of him. With a wicked gleam in her eye, she moved in for the kill. She stood on her toes until her lips brushed his cheek, and then...

The feeling of Amelia's tongue sliding over his cheek was not something the detective thought he'd ever feel.

Of course, he had imagined her tongue in several other places (minor attraction be damned, he felt like he was 16 again and had rediscovered Playboy Magazine for the first time), but this was unexpected.

She pulled away with a smirk, admiring the ever so faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. It wasn't quite a win, but it was closer.

"Oh," was all L managed to say. He internally deflated with the realization that the memory of this moment would serve as one of the many intrusive thoughts he’d had about her lately.

She grinned, studying his facial expression. Had she finally found a way to break him? Then, her eyes landed on a stray drop of cream that lingered on his lips.

She immediately pushed down the urge to handle it the same way she'd handled his cheek. "I missed some, just a second."

 _Good Lord,_ L thought, _please don't lick me again. Or do. On second thought, please do._

But she didn't. Instead, she gently lifted a finger to his lips and swiped the substance away. "There, that should do it." She smiled softly up at him, her face entirely too close, wiping her finger off on her slacks. No cartoonishly sexual advances, no over the top pet names or innuendos; just genuine, sweet affection lingered in her expression.

It was somehow worse than anything else she could have thrown at him. As far as L was concerned, she was no longer playing fair. He cursed the heat rising to his cheeks.

She hadn't expected this to draw a bigger reaction than her last maneuver, and yet there they were. L stood stock still, staring her down like a deer caught in headlights. His lips twitched, a heavy blush settling over his cheeks. She locked eyes with him, and suddenly found it very difficult to move.

Then, the kitchen light flickered on, shocking them both out of their trance.

"Good evening," Watari greeted them with a grin. "I needed a glass of water. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

They scattered away from each other as if they'd been caught with blood on their hands.

Amelia wasn't invited for any late night investigations for the next two weeks. The game had ended, but she couldn't help but feel like, though she struck the finishing blow, she hadn't won.


	13. White Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amelia receives a gift and a revelation.

March 14th came -- White day-- as did a small offering of candy from the task force.

"Since you made us something," Mogi explained, "we chipped in to get you something, too."

Amelia smiled sweetly. "Oh, boys, that's too kind."

"Happy White Day!" They said in chorus. 

L remained silent.

In fact, he seemed reluctant to even look in her direction the entire day. She tried not to dwell on it. Maybe she'd pushed him too far, or perhaps he was too absorbed in work to maintain their new friendship. Either way, she needed to wait for him to make contact, rather than pressing him for answers.

“Irene,” he finally said just after dismissing the task force for the day. It was the first time she recalled him addressing her directly since the cream puff incident. “Denuve requires your assistance again this evening. Could you please stay behind?”

She expertly schooled her expression to hide her glee. During the day, L and Amelia maintained a strictly professional, perhaps even cold, relationship. In the task force's eyes, she'd been removed from 'suspicion,' to some degree, but as far as they were concerned, she and L were still not fond of each other. If they started acting friendly out of the blue, certain someones (namely Matsuda) would be inclined to ask about it. All in all, it was too troublesome to bother with, so they kept up the charade. The task force still didn’t know who Denuve was, but they had gotten suspicious enough of L and Amelia’s nightly meetings that L had created a cover story of Amelia working under the mysterious detective Denuve to keep them off of their tail.

Technically, it was true -- so far as alibis went, it wasn’t so bad.

It took a few minutes for the rest of the task force to leave, but it felt like ages. Amelia was practically vibrating with excitement. She’d missed working on Denuve’s cases. She’d also missed getting to talk openly with L, something she hoped they were going to do a lot of this evening. But, the detective was unusually quiet after everyone had left, which was saying something considering his usual disposition. As much as she wanted to wait for him to initiate conversation, to make sure she wasn’t pushing him too hard, she couldn’t just sit in silence after not being able to speak with him for weeks.

“So! What’s this new case?” She prompted.

L hesitated. He suddenly became very interested in the carpet, refusing to lift his gaze to meet her for any reason. They stayed like that for nearly a minute as he racked his brain for some sort of explanation. Should he come up with some lie? Coil, his other pseudonym, might have a new case waiting. 

He realized after some thought that he didn't _want_ to lie, even if the result was a tad embarrassing.

“There isn’t one.” he finally admitted.

“Is that so?" The carpet suddenly seemed a lot more interesting to her, as well. She glued her eyes to it, avoiding looking anywhere near L. "So… did you just wanna… hang out?”

“If you wish.”

She fumbled with her words. How was she supposed to respond to that? “I-I do… wish? I wish it so. Uhm… Yes.”

Smooth.

Luckily L found her awkwardness endearing, the odd statement pulling a chuckle from the detective. He’d missed laughing with her. “As you wish, then.”

He took a few steps towards her, hovering just a foot away from her. The tension that had settled between them two weeks ago still hung heavy around them. She heard him take a deep, steadying breath as he stuffed a hand in his pocket. He fished around for something for a moment, still avoiding looking her in the eyes.

When he finally found what he was looking for -- a small, white box -- he thrust it unceremoniously towards her. “Here,” he said simply.

“Oh! Uh, thank you,” she stammered, taking the box from him.

“You can open it, if you like.”

“Oh! Right...” So open it, she did. Inside laid a fine gold bracelet composed of two interwoven chains that looked like scales. She lifted it delicately from the box, adopting the usual two finger grip that L favored. A small charm dangled from the chain. She held it up to her face to get a better look at it. “Is this…?”

“It’s a diamond. I know it’s not cut or anything but,” the words that had been dammed up behind L’s lips suddenly burst forth, “I thought you’d like it better this way.”

It was beautiful. The rough diamond sat in a small halo of stone, which had been decorated with gold leaf to match the chain from which it hung. Amelia was at a loss for words. What could have prompted him to get her such an extravagant gift?

“It’s from the same mine,” he explained as if knowing the question that hung on her lips. “That is -- the mine from which the diamond came from. I mean… the one from that first case.” This was unacceptable, he never stuttered like this. Perhaps he needed sleep, if only the increasingly explicit dreams he had been having about Amelia would allow him to do so peacefully. Why he bothered to entertain their friendship when it troubled him so was beyond him.

But then, she smiled. Her nose and the corners of her eyes crinkled slightly, as if her mouth couldn't grin wide enough to contain the joy she wanted to express, so the rest of her features had to pick up the slack. It was just like her laugh; raw, genuine, unfiltered. He couldn't get enough of it.

Ah, yes, that was why he put up with the agony she didn't know she was putting him through; he adored her.

“But you solved that case first, if memory serves,” she said.

“Well yes, but… I thought you might like it. And the task force had already been planning to get you chocolates so-- oof!”

Before he could finish that thought, he was enveloped in a tight hug. Amelia grinned as she released him, hands still gripping his arms.

“It’s perfect, thank you. But honestly, you didn’t have to get me anything, especially not something so expensive!”

“It’s nothing,” he assured her. And, looking around the lavish hotel in which he was staying, she had to believe him. “Do you need any help putting it on?”

Before she could answer, his hands had plucked the delicate bracelet from her grasp and wrapped it around her wrist. He stuck his tongue out a bit as he concentrated on the tiny clasp.

“I thought I could get you a charm for any landmark cases we-- I mean, you solve.”

“Do you think you can get me one of Light’s teeth when we finally catch him?” She joked, not shying away from the implication of partnership he had danced around. The idea of working with him, rather than competing, had become all too tempting to turn down. Even she could concede if the alternative to winning included seeing L’s smile more often.

“I’ll knock it out of his smug mouth, myself.” Finally, he managed to close the clasp, with a soft but triumphant “There.”

She smiled, holding her wrist up at eye level to get a better look. “Thank you again, Holmes.”

“It suits you,” he said as he flicked the diamond with his finger, “a diamond in the rough, just like you.”

“Is that so?” She was surprised, to say the least. She knew he seemed to trust her enough to take on Denuve’s minor cases, but this felt different, somehow.

“Hm, yes. Plenty of potential, but awfully rough around the edges and ultimately unsalvageable without cutting away all of your faults.” He gave the diamond another flick, winking playfully at Amelia and ducking away from the inevitable light jab she would try to land on his stomach for that comment. He dodged just in time for her fist to graze his t-shirt. 

“Ass,” she spat, though her mile wide grin betrayed her true feelings.

“It’s a step up from dumbass, I’ll take it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s a nice bracelet,” Ukita remarked the following morning. “You must be a lucky lady to get something like that for White Day.”

“Don’t let my wife find out you got jewelry,” Aizawa commented, “I’ll really be in the dog house, then. All I got her was a cake.”

“Cake is a great gift!” She assured him. “Besides, this wasn’t for White Day… I don’t think.” The last statement was said under her breath. What did it mean if this were a White Day gift? The thought hadn’t really crossed her mind.

 _“The task force had already planned on giving you chocolates...”_ L’s voice from the past night floated through her mind.

Oh dear. It was, wasn’t it?

“Well, either way, your boyfriend must be pretty damn keen on you.” Ukita smiled genuinely. “With a gift like that, I wouldn’t be surprised if a ring is next!”

Oh Lord, she couldn’t think of that. Her mind started reeling. _L wouldn’t. He didn’t... We haven’t even kissed!_

The room suddenly seem to grow several degrees warmer. Did she _want_ them to kiss? This wasn't the time or place to figure that out. She needed an exit strategy, and fast. “I-I don’t have a boyfriend!” She laughed nervously, swatting away at the air as if it would waft her incoming feelings away. “This was from… a friend.”

“Seems to me your friend might have different ideas,” Matsuda teased.

She was starting to think it was more likely that _she_ had different ideas. So much for professionalism. “No way! He’s way too straightforward, he would have told me.”

“Would have told you what?” L walked in from the kitchen with a tower of donuts precariously balanced on a plate.

Amelia could have exploded, she was sure of it. Maybe Kira killed people through sheer embarrassment. “N-nothing!”

“We’re just trying to figure out who Irene’s secret admirer~” Matsuda sang, prodding Amelia’s shoulder with an accusatory finger.

L gave one of his signature hums. Amelia noted that this one didn’t sound all too pleased. She knew he hated talk about silly things like relationships. Hell, he'd told of Matsuda plenty of times for exactly that. She didn't want to think about what he'd say to being the topic of such a conversation.

“I wasn’t aware you participated in such activities.” L set the plate down, climbing into his chair and expertly pulling a donut from the middle of the tower without knocking it over.

“I don’t!” She said too loudly.

“Oh, come on, we all saw you blushing!” Matsuda was just not letting up, was he? He did his best to imitate her previous behavior, his voice rising to a cartoonishly feminine tenor. “I don’t date! I just have a friend who gives me expensive gifts for White Day and who makes me blush even thinking about him! He’s totally not my boyfriend!’”

“I don’t sound like that!”

“Boyfriend…?” Was it her imagination, or did L sound a bit put out? “That’s a rather childish term to use.”

“Well, you’ve said it before; I’m a childish person.” She buried her head in her hands, another blush rising to her cheeks of its own accord. _After all, I’m the one with the schoolyard crush._

“C’mon, Irene, you can’t hide a secret boyfriend from a group of detectives!” Now Mogi seemed to want to get in on the fun. Great. “Especially if you’re gonna show up wearing jewelry he gave you.”

Dammit.

“Jewelry?” L asked through a mouthful of donut.

God dammit.

“Oh, you must be mistaken.”

Please don’t.

“I gave Irene that bracelet.”

Aaaand there it was. Amelia couldn’t sink any further into the couch, she had nowhere to run. Was this really all happening today? She’d just barely started to work out her feelings, and now L was going to be privy to them, as well as the entire task force! This was a nightmare.

“Oooooh, ok.” Matsuda rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Definitely platonic, then.”

What?

“Yes, I agree. There’s no way. Sorry for teasing you, Irene.” Ukia said.

“You didn’t need to make anything up about ‘friends,’ either,” Mogi assured her. “We would have understood if you said it came from Ryuzaki. It probably has a GPS tracker in it, or something.”

“Hey! Ryuzaki can--” she tried to defend him, but was cut off by L talking over her.

“There, now that we’re done gossiping, can we get back to work, please?”

"I--" she protested.

"Enough." He gave her a meaningful look.

Right, they needed to stick to their story. The task force didn't get to see the other side of their relationship, and L wanted to keep it that way.

"Yes, of course," she said.

Frustratingly, the rest of the day passed in the same way the others had; no new leads, no progress, no slip ups. She spent the day in a case. She really couldn't wait for April to roll around. Only two more weeks…

"Miss Adler?" L asked. If she didn't know better, she'd say he sounded almost hesitant.

She started, looking around her. The task force had gone, and no light shone through the hotel windows. How late was it?

"Ah, sorry. Guess I spaced out."

"It's perfectly fine," L patiently waited for her to come out of her trance. "Do you need to sleep?"

"Oh, no. I'm not tired, just…"

"Bored out of your skull?" He gave her his usual half smile.

"You too, huh?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Are we messed up, for needing a serial killer to keep us entertained?"

"Oh, absolutely," he said instantly. "But if you spend your life trying to be normal, there's no time left over for you to be extraordinary."

"That's nice," she gave him a tired smile.

"Thank you, I came up with it, myself. I'm quite the poet, you know."

That got a laugh out of her. Mission accomplished.

"Are you? Would you mind telling me one?" She stared up at him, her face in a sarcastic display of rapt attention.

"If I do, there's a 70% chance you might fall for me." He reached out, poking her on the forehead. "For your sake, I'd better keep my poems to myself."

"For my sake? I don’t think it’d be such a bad thing to fall for you.” 

_Shit._

She’d meant to say that he shouldn’t talk down about himself. That he was a great person and anyone would be lucky to be just a little bit in love with him. Anyone at all. Definitely not her, though. Surely not her.

L seemed to take a sharp new interest in the ceiling, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he stared up at the crown molding. “I believe you may be alone in that opinion.”

“I’m not,” she said emphatically. But, too quickly, her resolve faltered. She seemed to collapse into herself, arms curling protectively around her rapidly beating heart. “Falling in… love… is never a bad thing.”

 _If it isn’t so bad, then why do you have so much trouble saying even the word, itself?_ He wanted to ask her.

They were treading into uncomfortable territory. Before, their strange game had skirted around the topic of love, or even affection. The two detectives found themselves unsure of how to proceed. Because, L realized, what he wanted to say was _‘It would be a bad thing, falling in love with me. I would tear you up inside. I would leave you the instant you got too close. It would be a terrible, horrible idea to fall in love with me. But, God, do I want you to.’_

What he did say was, “Regardless, I don't do those sorts of things."

"Nor do I, but you have to admit there’s little else to do around here.” Amelia forced a smile, a way of showing L that she was teasing. She hoped he got the hint. “Whattaya say? You think we oughta ditch this rodeo, get hitched, pop out a few kids?" 

He raised an inquisitive brow at her, but soon his features melted into the little smile she’d grown used to. Good, he seemed to understand. “A novel idea. You know, I never wanted to be a detective; I think I’d be much happier as an accountant with a family of six.”

This was good, they were joking again. Only joking. This, they could handle. They sat in amicable silence for a while; L busying himself with another cup of coffee, and Amelia typing away at her laptop.

L had to admit to himself, this was… nice. Others he had worked with seemed to expect some level of unnecessary small talk in moments like this, but Amelia was content to leave that aside. When they did converse, many of the asinine pleasantries were forgotten. And, as much as he wanted to catch Kira, he wasn't certain he would find a partner like this for the next case, if he bothered to find one at all. He felt an unpleasant lurch in his stomach at the thought of never seeing her again. Perhaps he could allow her to keep solving cases for Denuve…


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day! I just couldn't help it. I wanted to get to the juicy plot stuff.
> 
> "Some people deserved to die, she thought, on that much; she and Kira could agree..."

“I have a confession to make.”

L turned in his chair. It was April, only a day before To-Oh’s entrance ceremony. Only a day before he would finally be able to get close to Light Yagami. He was laser focused -- nervous, even. This wasn’t the time for Amelia to be making strange confessions.

“What is it?” he prodded

“I was offered a teaching position at To-Oh University. Criminal Psychology.”

“... Absolutely not. Quit immediately.”

“I think it’d be good to have a second set of eyes on him. Besides, the more pressure we can put on him, the better!” She searched his face, finding in it the infuriatingly blank slate he used to shut her out when he wanted to keep his distance.

“You’ll only interfere. You have no idea what my plans are there, and I want to keep it that way. No, I must keep it that way.”

“I can hang back, I don’t even have to talk to him if it’s not about coursework. I’ll only intervene if you need me to. You and I both know it’s better to have that option. So, why should I quit?” she demanded. For a fraction of a second, she saw something in his expression shift. He clenched his jaw just slightly. So that was it, he saw some danger in her getting close to Light. Selfishly, she wondered if the danger he perceived was to her life, and if he didn’t want to risk her being killed.

He stared at her for a long moment, jaw clenching and unclenching and busy fingers tapping his knees. Finally, he sighed and bowed his head. “If you approach Light Yagami for anything unrelated to his work in your class, without my permission, you will be fired immediately and sent back to Niigata.”

“I can live with those terms.” She held out a hand, silently asking him to shake it. He took it in his usual limp grip, to which she responded by doubling down on her grip, squeezing his hand tightly as she shook it. “I look forward to doing some field work with you. Thanks for giving me another chance.”

She left, with a spring in her step.

And L allowed the slowly encroaching panic to wash over him.

She hadn’t been there when Naomi Misora died. No, that was the day after she had arrived, she had been knee-deep in catching up on the case. He had never bothered to tell her. Why would he? At the time, he thought it wasn’t relevant information for her. Then, slowly, it became too painful to speak of it to her. He no longer knew how to broach the topic, despite secretly hoping he would be able to find in her a sympathetic ear to his trials. Naomi had been one of the lucky ones, for a while, but her death cemented something for him; something he had been too afraid to admit for some time, now.

The people he worked with had a nasty habit of dying on the job.

Amelia, she was capable -- but so was Naomi, and look where that had gotten her. If anything, being too clever for her own good would be Amelia’s downfall in the same way it was Naomi’s. If she wasn’t careful…

No, he couldn’t let another Naomi happen. He would have to be careful for her. With the rest of the task force, he could count on them to prioritize their own lives over the case, or at least not go looking too eagerly for trouble.

But Amelia was too much like Naomi, too much like him. She didn’t have that reasonable voice in the back of her mind, pleading with her to stop poking that bear with that goddamned stick.

L sighed, standing from his chair. He had a lot of thinking to do before sunrise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emilia McCarthy slid her glasses up the bridge of her nose and slicked back the stray curl that threatened to loose itself from her tight french braid. The persona of Emilia, the college professor, slipped back into place easily as Amelia MacCarthy lost herself among the green contacts, red hair, and fake freckles. After all, she’d only allowed the barest traces of Amelia to resurface -- in the brown roots that had started to peek out from her skull, and the way she smiled too broadly and laughed too loudly.

She would miss Amelia, as she always did, but it was safer to be Emilia for now. It had been safer for years, actually. She wasn’t sure if she ever could go back to being Amelia, not unless that man was finally caught.

The young woman shook herself from her thoughts, focusing on carefully applying henna to her face in a convincing mimicry of the freckles she didn’t come by naturally. There was no need for her to attend the opening ceremony, so she decided to spend the day preparing her lectures and meeting with her fellow professors. They were a stuck-up lot, to be frank. Teaching at the top school in Tokyo must do that to a person, she assumed. The other criminal justice professors were absolutely gushing about how the only two students to ever achieve a perfect score on their entrance exams were going to be in their classes.

Amelia had tried to hold back her laughter, she really did, but eventually she had to excuse herself from the room. They’d be eating their words if they got a load of L in a classroom setting. She had the feeling he wasn’t the most respectful student, if he’d ever gone to school at all.

The task force had left for the day, as usual. Amelia felt herself resurfacing the moment she walked into the hotel room and found L sitting there, waiting for her. She briefed him on the days’ events, prompting him to do the same. According to him, the ceremony had passed somewhat uneventfully, or so she thought until L dropped a veritable bomb on her.

“I told Light that I am L.”

“What the fuck, Holmes!?”

“I think I can make him slip up, this way. He’s highly competitive, something I plan to test out tomorrow.”

“Jesus, you are incorrigible.”

“I rather think that Holmes is a better name for me than Jesus. Wouldn’t want to inflate my ego, now would we?”

“I think dumbass suits you better.”

“There’s no need to be rude, mon Ami.”

She rolled her eyes and left, claiming she needed to get her notes in order before tomorrow’s lecture. Though L would never tell a single soul, he spent the night practicing his tennis swing.

He was just as competitive as Kira, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia intentionally mentioned a few points regarding Kira during the lecture. It was a hot topic, after all, and quickly derailed the class as each student chimed in with their own conjectures. This was a perfect cue for her to give her own ‘insights’ as to Kira’s criminal profile.

“We already know he’s in the Kanto region, thanks to L,” she said.

She hoped the mention of the detective so shortly after his and Light’s meeting would spark something in their prime suspect. She watched Light’s face closely for a reaction, and was not wholly disappointed. He was good at restraining his emotions, but not that good.

As she continued her speech, she kept allowing her eyes to casually fall across Light Yagami as if she were looking over the entire classroom in a similar manner. “We can tell from the pattern of the killings that he’s likely a student. Perhaps a teacher, but then we’d likely see the deaths start about an hour later each evening as teachers have work to do after the students are dismissed.

“If Kira is really that young, it would be very unlikely that he has his own apartment or place to live, so however he kills must be discrete, enough so that it can be done at home without anyone noticing.” She paused, covertly checking Light’s reaction. Had she hit the nail on the head? Was she getting close? He didn’t allow her the satisfaction of knowing, so she continued. “He would also have to be an excellent actor, to kill so many people in plain sight. He would likely be a loner from the start, or would have cut ties with his close friends after beginning his killing spree. So! I think we’re looking for your classic tortured intellectual, here. They often become serial killers. Wouldn't be surprised if it was one of you, actually.”

That spurred its own series of discussions, of course. The rest of the two hour lecture was taken up by debate.

She didn’t bother even looking at Light after that, she knew how he would respond to being likened to the criminals he sought to kill. If he were Kira, he wouldn’t be able to let a comment like that slide.

And he hadn’t. He stood at her desk after class, as expected, patiently waiting for her to finish putting away her files. Amelia had promised not to talk to Light unless it was about coursework. So, this was fine, wasn’t it?

“Good afternoon, Yagami-san,” she greeted him. He had approached her, of his own volition, after class. So, L couldn’t complain if he found out.

He didn’t need to know that she had tailored her lecture to basically ensure this meeting, now did he?

“Hello, Professor McCarthy.” Light’s appearance was off-putting. Yes, she had seen him on screens, but never in person. He was too… small for a serial killer. Too delicate, too young. “I wanted to discuss today’s lecture with you.”

“Oh, is that right?” It was all going perfectly according to plan.

“You seem to know so much about Kira, more than the NPA, I think. I wanted to know…” he began, “why you’re here, when a mind like yours should be working on the Kira investigation.”

She didn’t even bat an eye. He was clearly trying to butter her up so he could get some intel on her. At that moment, she realized that his father must have said just enough about her to make Light suspect that she was ‘Irene,’ the woman who’d sent in an anonymous profile on Kira and had been haplessly dragged into the investigation as a result. 

But, there was no way he could have known that for certain, otherwise he would have said it more directly. He was prone to bragging, she could tell. He would have wanted her to know that he had caught her. No, he didn’t know for sure who she was. So, he was taking a shot in the dark, trying to get her to confirm his suspicions of her by reading her reaction to what was likely a lucky guess, on his part. It wasn’t too dissimilar from how she’d gotten into the case, in the first place. She realized just how uncomfortable it made her to share so much in common with a serial killer.

She chuckled lightly, employing Emilia’s light, insipid laugh as she did while around the rest of the NPA. He seemed like the sexist type. Light would likely deem her less of a threat the more feminine and harmless she appeared. “I’m afraid my days in the force are over, so I content myself with making my students listen to my deductions,” she explained. Even Chief Yagami was not aware of her background, only that she’d sent in an anonymous tip that had placed L’s target on her back. This could be enough to throw Light off of her sent.

He tilted his head in what she assumed he thought was an endearing manner. It might have been, had she not suspected him of murdering thousands of people in cold blood.

“Oh, yeah? My dad’s on the force; Chief Superintendent, actually. I’ve always wanted to follow in his footsteps. I want to put a stop to villains like Kira, to make the world a better place.”

He was oversharing, like he was reading from a script. Hardly damning, but she kept note of it, regardless. It would be important to keep track of the stories he told her, in case he ever strayed from his script at all.

“That’s nice,” she said simply, peering at him over the rim of her glasses. “Is that all you needed, Yagami-san?”

“I just wanted to get to know my professors a little better,” he explained, running a hand through his chestnut hair. “So, why did you quit the force?”

He wasn’t going to let up, was he?

“I never said I quit,” she said, giving him a curious glare. “Have you been looking me up, Yagami-san?”

“Hardly,” he assured her. “Lucky guess, I suppose. You don’t seem like the kind of person to get discharged, is all.”

Time to do some acting of her own. She cast her gaze downward, hoping Light would think she was playing into his hands, giving him the intel he was looking for. 

“But, I should have been. I let someone get away with murder, literally. He killed my partner right in front of me, tried to… hurt me. But, I ran away, like a coward. I ran away and now nobody knows where he is! It’s my fault he’s still out there, hurting people. They said it wasn’t my fault but… Anyway, that’s why I quit.”

“... Who was it?”

Oh, this was going too well. She played a great damsel in distress, maybe she would ditch the detective gambit for an acting career. She’d heard that Ryuga Hideki guy was something else. She thanked her lucky stars that she had redacted her name from the case files years ago.

“B-Benjamin Reiner.”

“Don’t worry, Emilia.”

 _Oh, Lord, does he really think we’re on a first name basis now?_ she thought.

“I’ll work hard, so I can bring scum like Reiner to justice!” Satisfied with his white knight act, Light Yagami left with a polite bow. He looked foused, unlike anything she’d seen on his face before. She’d seen that look elsewhere, though.

That was the look of a killer.

She stared after him, wondering how soon Benjamin Reiner would die. Would it be a heart attack, or something crueler?

At the end of the day, she didn’t care much. The only lie in her story had been that she’d let him get away scott free. She’d pulled the trigger on him multiple times. She had wanted nothing more than to watch the life drain out of that scumbag’s eyes, but she ran out of bullets. He ran off with nothing more than a bullet hole in his shin-- that bastard.

Yeah, she knew what a killer looked like. She’d looked the same way when she was still Amelia MacCarthy.

Reiner had burned any evidence she’d collected against him before the police found the both of them bleeding on the floor of that warehouse. She’d been dishonorably discharged for pulling a firearm on what was ‘legally’ an innocent civilian -- not to mention she’d raided his hideout without a warrant. She’d discovered a year later that he was still around, still kicking, still hurting people. The law could barely touch him; their altercation had given him the perfect alibi for his crimes all those years ago, and he’d been careful ever since to keep detectives like Amelia off of his trail.

She stood from her chair and left soon after Light had. Soon, Reiner would be dead, and she’d have another reason to suspect that Light Yagami was Kira. She squashed down her guilt. Some people deserved to die, she thought, on that much; she and Kira could agree.


	15. Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was what it meant to be the world’s greatest detective. Compared to him? Well, she wondered why he kept her around, at all.

Luckily for Amelia, she didn’t need to contrive some clever reason as to why she was attending that afternoon’s impromptu tennis match. It seemed the professors were just as inclined as the students to gawk at the two genius freshmen. She arrived late, so she had to take up a spot in the back of the group.

But L was unmistakable, even from a distance. She’d never seen him out in public like this, she realized. It was… odd. He definitely stood out.

“So hey, what about Ryuga, then?” a voice in the crowd asked. Ryuga Hideki had been L’s new moniker, only to be used while on campus.

Amelia laughed. It looked like she wasn’t the only one with eyes for only the strange detective. She silently cheered him on, but forced her gaze to linger on Light Yagami. This was about getting closer to Light, to make him slip.

It was a close match, but Light eventually won, if only barely. Amelia could barely make out their faces from where she stood, but she couldn’t mistake the way L leaned towards Light. It was the same way he’d approached her, though perhaps a little less cocky, when he’d given her that ridiculous ultimatum.

_‘She can help us catch Kira… or go to jail.’_

If Light were anything like her, he wasn’t going to respond all too well to whatever L had to say to him. Sure enough, Light’s entire body seemed to stiffen for just a moment. Whatever L had said must have been more shocking than his previous day’s confession to being L.

He must have told Light that he suspected him of being Kira. Amelia seethed, _that dumbass, he's going to get himself killed._

As they made their way off of the court, Amelia busied herself with leaving, as well. She was certain that L wouldn’t want to let on that they were connected in any way, so it was best if she left now.

“Ah, Emilia!” Light called out from a few yards away.

Dammit.

“I wanted to thank you for taking the time to talk with me after the lecture,” he said. L ambled behind him, gazing curiously at Amelia with his thumb on his lips. 

“Oh, it was no trouble. Actually, I think I learned a lot from you!” And she had, though not in the way she implied. She'd been scanning the headlines for Ben Reiner's death obsessively since their conversation. If he were to execute him, it meant he could be manipulated into killing certain individuals -- a tactic she hoped she could use against him, later.

He defaulted back to running his fingers through his hair. Perhaps it was a nervous tick. “I would really love to follow up with you sometime. Maybe over coffee?”

She backed up instinctively, but tried to play it off as general shyness. After all, Emilia the Criminal Psychology professor had no reason to be so terribly afraid of Light. “Oh! I uh… I don’t usually socialize with my students.” 

“So... this is Professor McCarthy,” L stepped between them, almost protectively. His head cocked to one side as he inspected her. 

Amelia had found that piercing gaze annoying when he'd first used it on her. It was like he could read her life's story through his dark eyes. Now, it felt even more like his eyes were boring into her, and she wasn't sure he would like what he found if she let him dig deep enough. 

He leaned in ever closer, so that his breath tickled her nose as he spoke. “Cute. I can see why you like her, Light-kun.”

“Ah… thanks? I-I think I should go now.” She did her best to act put off by L. Many of the professors and students visibly recoiled when he approached, she supposed she would need to do the same to appear as though they didn’t know each other.

Light smiled, stepping past L towards her. “Of course, have a nice afternoon. I hope you enjoyed the tennis match.”

“I did, yes. Good job out there.” So this is what a gazelle must feel like when cornered by lions. Between Light's persistent approach and L's perceptive glare, she felt more than ever like she was on the menu. “I’ll be going, then. Good bye.”

“Good bye, Professor,” L said as she left.

She could almost swear it sounded like a growl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“As for Naomi Misora, the only lead we have is the hotel employee’s statement that she hasn’t been back since late at night on December 27th,” Matsuda informed the team. They were seated in their usual circle in the hotel room’s sitting area. It had been months since Naomi had gone missing.

No, not missing… she was dead, L knew this.

“If we open an official investigation, we should keep quiet about the Kira angle and release only sketches of her, not photos,” L ordered. “Even if she’s dead, someone might have talked to her and heard something. And it’s odd that her body’s never turned up. It if did, we might be able to find another lead there.”

The detective’s fingers tapped restlessly on his knees as he spoke. To the rest of the task force, this appeared to be an expression of his usual quirky behavior. Amelia, on the other hand, was not so easily convinced. She watched him with a wary eye as they continued to discuss Naomi’s disappearance, wondering why her death held such significance for him. She’d heard the name in passing a few times. Apparently, she was an FBI agent who had contacted the NPA with information on the Kira case, only to turn up missing days later. Her body still hadn’t been found. Clearly, this had put L in one of his rare 'moods.' If something didn't change soon, they'd have to put up with L's explosive temper. She'd only seen it once, so far -- a few weeks after the entrance exams. He'd been so frustrated at the lack of leads that he'd shouted at her for 'breathing too loudly.' She didn't want to deal with that again.

“Ryuzaki!” Watari cut in, almost as if on cue, rushing into the room and snatching up the remote.

He tuned into Sakura TV, a somewhat sketchy news channel whose primary goal was to snitch on the whereabouts of certain celebrities. It was hardly Amelia’s taste. She regarded the television with rapt attention, however, when she saw what was on screen.

“In other words, we are being held hostage by Kira and have no choice but to air these videos. At the same time, we feel that doing so is our professional duty. I would like to emphasize that these tapes are not being broadcast as a hoax or for purposes of sensationalism.” The reporter sat stiffly in his chair, delivering the news in a somber tone.

“Hmph...” Amelia shrugged. “Journalistic integrity from Sakura TV? That’s a first.”

The reporter went on to describe the situation: four tapes were delivered to their TV station with instructions on how to broadcast them, and in what order. The first tape predicted the dates of two incarcerated criminals, who died as the tape predicted, confirming that whoever sent the tapes was indeed Kira. The second tape came with instructions to air it at 5:59pm exactly, which they proceeded to do.

The video was… quaint, if one can use that term to describe the actions of the most prolific serial killer in history. The font was a copy of L’s, though it was written by hand. Even then, the lettering was sloppy -- 

_Childish,_ Amelia’s mind supplied. She snuck a glance at L. His brow was furrowed, eyes scanning the screen hungrily. Did he feel the same way about this that she did?

A machine garbled voice oozed from the speakers. “If this video aired at exactly 5:59pm on April 18th, it is now 5:59pm and 38… 39… 40 seconds. Please switch channels to Taiyo TV. The news anchor, Kazuhiko Hibima, will die of a heart attack at precisely 6:00pm.”

“Change the channel!” L demanded.

Watari did as he was bid, the television now showing the news anchor collapsed on his desk. The two anchors next to him were still screaming.

“Switch back to Sakura,” L said. “Watari, bring in another TV. No, two TVs.”

“Consider it done,” said Watari.

The garbled voice continued. “Hibima has consistently referred to Kira as “evil” in his reports. This was his punishment.”

‘Kira’ used another TV anchor as their next victim; one who had spoken out against them repeatedly. Amelia frowned. This wasn’t their Kira’s M.O. Either the killer’s God complex had finally caused him to snap, or this wasn’t their guy.

“We have to make them stop this broadcast, or something terrible is going to happen!” L shouted.

Matsuda and Ukita sprung into action, trying desperately to ring Sakura TV and tell them to stop the broadcast. Unfortunately, the lines were predictably jammed. 

“Dammit, I’m going over there myself!” Ukita shouted, running for the door. Matsuda lunged to stop him, but the larger man easily threw him off and made it out.

“Ukita, wait!” Amelia yelled after him, grabbing her coat and following him to the door. 

But Matsuda wasn’t going to let two people run off into danger that night. While he had failed to stop Ukita, he caught Amelia by her arm and held her fast. She struggled and lashed out at him, but he persisted.

“Stop it, Irene! He can handle himself, there’s no sense putting both of you in danger!”

And still, the fiend calling themselves Kira continued to monologue over the speakers. They had an ultimatum for the police, it seemed: either let Kira continue unchallenged, or innocent people would die.

Amelia stopped struggling. “That’s not Kira, that’s a goddamn coward.” She turned to L, fire in her eyes. “Please, someone, call Ukita! We don’t know what lengths this person might go to, he could be in danger!”

“This just in! Someone is reported to have collapsed in front of Sakura TV!” the second TV blared.

“No…” Amelia sank to the floor, Matsuda's hand still gripping her arm. It hung limply between them. Mastuda's eyes followed hers to the television. 

Ukita’s body laid crumpled just outside of the doors of Sakura TV.

“Kira got him!?” Aizawa exclaimed as he grabbed his coat, following in Ukita’s footsteps towards the door.

Only this time, it was L who stopped him. “Forget it, Aizawa. If you go over there now, you’ll only get killed.”

“You’re trying to tell me to sit here and watch television!?”

“I’m trying to tell you to calm down and be realistic. Both of you.” L glared daggers at him and Amelia. “I want to stop that video as much as you do. And, if we manage to confiscate the package, there’s a good chance we can track this Kira down, but if Ukita was murdered by Kira… whoever goes there will wind up dead, too.”

“That means his fake ID didn’t help him!” Aizawa yelled. “Kira knows our real names, there’s no other explanation!”

“That might be true, but if you’re right, it would make more sense for Kira to kill the entire task force right now. I deduced that Kira needs to know someone’s name and face in order to kill them, but from seeing this, I’d have to conclude that seeing their face alone could be enough. But Ukita was killed before the other networks started reporting from outside of Sakura TV. That means that Kira is either inside of Sakura, or is somewhere they can see people entering the building.”

But this wasn’t enough to placate Aizawa. He grabbed L by the shoulder, shaking him. “Ukita might have been murdered by Kira! I thought we were risking our lives to arrest that bastard!”

“Risking your life and throwing it away are exact opposites,” L said calmly. But, Aizawa stood down after getting a better look at him...

L’s hands were shaking. The world’s greatest detective -- the strange, unshakable man they’d come to know as their leader -- was terrified. This was bad news.

But just then, the strangest thing happened.

“An armored car has crashed into the lobby of Sakura TV!” one anchor reported.

“Well, that’s one way to get in without someone seeing your face…” L mused.

Another car joined shortly after, though this one was not armored. L demanded Chief Kitamura’s number, and called him to demand he prevent any other officers from going to the building. However, it was too late to save those who had already arrived. The officers who showed up collapsed the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. 

“Ryuzaki, it’s Asahi-san,” Watari said as he entered, holding a phone in his hands.

In a flash, L took the other phone, barking orders to Chiefs Yagami and Kitamura so quickly, Amelia could do nothing but watch in amazement. This was where L excelled; not in sitting behind a screen, analyzing data, but in thinking on his feet. In minutes, he had a plan to get Chief Yagami, as well as the Kira tapes, out of the building safely. The Chief arrived at the hotel only minutes later, and the package was sent straight to Forensics. L held onto the tapes, to review the footage.

Amelia felt like she was swimming through molasses, or else dreaming. L moved at light speed, and here she was stuck in slow motion. This was nothing like anything she had ever seen. Sure, she could look through the numbers as well as anyone, and make a few lucky guesses here and there, but this…

This was what it meant to be the world’s greatest detective. Compared to him? Well, she wondered why he kept her around, at all.


	16. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which L and Amelia reach a compromise, and find themselves in a compromising position.

L was ticked. Stressed, agitated, peeved, restless, angry, whatever.

He didn’t even have a word for it, but it didn’t feel good.

“Don’t you ever leave this hotel without my permission again,” L said plainly as he fell onto the couch beside her. His legs splayed out at odd angles, a far cry from his usual sitting position. He never broke character like this, but without the rest of the task force breathing down his neck, he was letting his guard down. He did not look at her, only turned on the TV and slid one of the Kira tapes into the VHS player. The task force had been sent home for the night, leaving L and Amelia to review the tapes.

Amelia stared at him, too afraid to say no, but unable to make any promises. “I... “

“I’m not asking for your opinion on the matter.” Still, his eyes never left the screen. It was strange to see him like this, the reclined position somehow looking more tense than his usual crouch.

The petty voice in the back of her mind screamed ‘You don’t have to take this shit! Tell him off!’ but she pushed it down. Her friend was clearly hurting, this wasn’t the time for arguments. Her hand landed on his knee, causing him to twitch slightly in agitation. “Are you alright, L?” she asked softly.

“Do I look alright, Amelia?” he spat her name like it was bitter on his tongue. His eyes left the screen, piercing through her with an intensity she’d never seen before.

“I… guess not.”

“Five people are dead tonight.” It sounded like a plain statement of fact, but she could read the barest flicker of pain in his expression.

“And many more aren’t, because of you,” she said.

“People who work for me die, Amelia. Stop acting like they don’t!” 

She recoiled, she’d never heard him raise his voice. Yes, he would shout orders when necessary, but this was anger. This was bitter hatred. This was… sadness.

“Your things will be moved to my room, it’s not like I’m going to be getting any sleep, anyway.” He pushed towards her. To her chagrin, she shrank back in response. “I will not see another life wasted just because you want to feel important. My surveillance of Light Yagami can continue without your contributions, so stay. out. of. it.” 

Those final syllables were punctuated by a bony finger jammed into her clavicle. Amelia felt anger bubbling in her chest. Whether he was distressed or not, she wasn’t about to lie back and let him order her around. She was just about to give her a piece of his mind, but stopped herself when she saw the detective’s eyes begin to roll back into his head.

Then, amongst all of the other strange behavior of the night, he did something truly unexpected: he collapsed. Any anger she felt vanished, replaced by abject terror. For one horrific moment, she thought she’d lost him. That Kira had somehow…

But no, he was breathing softly. She could feel it against her arm. His head had landed on her chest, his arm splayed out over her lap. He was sound asleep.

Amelia had caught L asleep a few times before, always at his desk. The differences between an awake L and an asleep L were subtle. Usually, his face would droop into his knees, and he would sit back on his heels instead of crouching on the balls of his feet. Sometimes, he even kept his eyes open. If one weren’t paying attention, they might not notice he was asleep, at all.

He twitched, pulling her from her thoughts. The hand on her lap had moved to her wrist, gripping it desperately. She looked him over. His neck was bent oddly, and his shoulders were slouched too far even for him; it didn’t look terribly comfortable. She remembered that night, all those weeks ago, when he had carried her to bed after she had collapsed from exhaustion. Perhaps it was time to return the favor. However, she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to pick him up, let alone carry him. The woman looked around desperately for Watari, but found him nowhere.

She sighed. “Well, at least you’re already on the couch. I’ll go get you a blanket,” she said to no one in particular, as the detective was still out cold. 

However, when she tried to stand, the vice grip on her wrist only tightened. And, even more distressing, L’s unconscious mouth let out a tiny whimper at the disturbance to his peaceful slumber. That bastard really knew how to pull on her heartstrings.

“Well, shit.”

She didn’t want to wake him up. He was so... There had to be a better word for the sheer exhaustion he subjected himself to, but all she could come up with was tired. She knew that, the moment she woke him up, he would force himself to get back to work.

And so, Amelia resigned herself to sleeping next to him, or rather letting him sleep on top of her. She leaned back as slowly as she could, careful not to rouse the snoozing detective, and tried to make herself into as comfortable a pillow as possible. In response, L’s back straightened slightly, and his neck unbent from its uncomfortable angle. He shuffled a bit, curling into her and sighing contentedly. His head nuzzled her chest as she settled back into his deep sleep.

She hoped the pounding of her heart wouldn’t wake him up.

The third Kira tape continued to play softly on the television in front of them. Good, a distraction from the fluttering in her stomach. She watched the tape through to the end, with L sleeping soundly on top of her. As the television cut to static, she went over what she could gather from the tape’s contents.

If the police agreed to work with Kira (well, this particular Kira), they were essentially allowing Kira free reign to determine which criminals were fit to live or die. Also, L and the top police officials would have to appear on air.

That was what seemed off to her, it didn’t add up with Kira’s methods. There was only one conclusion to make -- this was a second Kira, and this Kira did not need a name to kill, only a face. Otherwise, they would have made some indication that their true names needed to be released. 

Additionally, she found it odd that the tape didn’t just ask for photos of the individuals to be aired on TV. Rather, it requested they be filmed making the announcement that they would work with Kira, and made no specific mention of them showing their faces (an oversight, in Amelia’s opinion, but she couldn’t rule out that it might have been intentional). It was almost as if this copy-cat Kira thought they were somehow tricking L and the police to show their faces. This, of course, wasn’t logically consistent with Kira’s perspective, as L had already let Kira know that the NPA was aware he needed to see someone’s face in order to kill. It was possible the copy-cat Kira had not been in Tokyo when L’s original broadcast occurred. But then, why had they copied his font?

Perhaps they were stupid.

Stupid was too harsh a word, she reminded herself. After all, she had been dealing with one of the brightest minds in the world lately, as well as a serial killer that seemed to match his wits. Her perception of intelligence was surely skewed as of late.

When working on cases with particularly gifted killers, Amelia would often refer to the inevitable battle of wits as ‘4D chess.’ There was a lot of ‘I know you know, but you know I know you know,’ and so on. Kira, the real Kira, was engaged in 4D chess with L. The copy-cat, however, did not seem to have the attention span to play 4D chess, preferring a more direct approach to get what they wanted. Killers like these were almost more intimidating than Kira; what did they care if they made a mistake, if they were confident they could handle the ramifications? This suspect must have had some advantage or contingency plan that the original Kira did not.

They had managed to kill Ukita, after all, without so much as a hint at his name, nor the necessary amount of time to look him up online. Granted, they could have done their research beforehand, learning the names of everyone on the force. That was possible, and it tracked with the second Kira’s careless confidence. However, it could also mean that this Kira did not need a name to kill, at all, unlike the first Kira. If they received their killing methods from the same source, then that meant there were different rules for each Kira.

The most glaringly obvious fact, however, was that this Kira was sloppy. She was certain this new Kira was not working under the direction of the first Kira. This wasn’t Kira 1’s way of operating -- he hadn’t allowed this much information about his killing method leak since L’s confrontation with him months ago. No, this was a copy-cat.

Or worse, a disciple.

Black hair shifting against her chest tore her from her thoughts. A quick glance at L’s face confirmed he was still fast asleep, he was only dreaming. Amelia felt a smile tug at her lips. It wasn’t every day she got to see him like this. In fact, it wasn’t any day, at all. He looked almost peaceful, if it weren’t for the crease between his brows and the occasional mutterings slipping past his parted lips. She hadn’t pinned him for someone who talked in his sleep.

“Copy… Kira…" he mumbled.

Amelia chuckled. Leave it to L to solve a case in his sleep. She unconsciously ran her deft fingers through his hair as she spoke. "Yes, and they want you dead, Holmes. I hope that that clever brain of yours has figured a way out of this."

They wouldn't be able to hold onto the tapes without sending innocent people to death, she knew that much. Plus, with the police having already taken a stance against Kira, it was likely the fourth tape held an ultimatum similar to the first.

Basically, L was dead either way. That was unacceptable.

She hummed in thought, talking to thin air as the detective slept on. "You know, I bet a message from Kira could stop this copy-cat from killing you. They seem to worship him, almost. I bet they'd follow orders. We just have to get the fake message out before they make contact with the real Kira."

"A great idea," a voice piped up from the back of the room.

Amelia jumped slightly, eliciting an angry grumble from the still unconscious detective lying on top of her. "Watari, you scared me!" She scolded in a hoarse whisper.

"Apologies, ma'am." But, his eyes didn't look sorry. In fact, he looked smug as anything as he looked at the two of them. "I only wanted to tell you that you needn't worry. L has already anticipated the chance that this Kira might ask him to sacrifice himself in some way, and we'll be setting a plan in motion to send a message, should this be the case."

"Of course he has."

"Still, I'm impressed you came to the same conclusion, yourself."

"Yeah, only hours later! This man does more work in his sleep than I can do while awake," she complained, puffing out her cheeks. "L, why do you have to beat me at everything?"

Watari's smug grin grew a fraction of an inch.

Amelia deadpanned. "He's awake now, isn't he?"

"Miss Adler, I had no idea you held me in such high regard." L's voice was rough from sleep. He rubbed at his eyes as he tilted his face upward to look at her. "I'm flattered." A tiny smile took over his features, the closest he could get to a shit eating grin.

"I said no such thing."

“I have reason to believe you’re lying.”

“... Shut up.”

"Not until you admit you admire me.”

“T-that’s a dumb way to phrase it!”

“Hardly, Miss Adler. I’m always very careful in my choice of words.”

“Just… Just get off of me!” Amelia struggled under his weight, wiggling helplessly as he stared her down. She avoided his gaze, unable to handle the sight of him looking up at her while he was still lying on her chest.

“Was it not your choice to sleep like this? I was under the impression you favored this position. After all, I’ve wound up lying on top of you on multiple occasions.”

“Those were your doing!” she defended herself, face reddening by the minute. “And as for this… I didn’t want to wake you!”

“I wouldn’t have minded. In fact, I would have gotten more work done had you woken me.” And yet, he did appreciate the chance to rest, and the pleasant sensation of lying so close to someone -- not that he’d ever let her know, but she’d effectively managed to banish his bad mood from the night before.

“Well, you need to sleep!”

“Why would I do that? And even more importantly, why would you care?” It was a genuine question. He understood that they’d formed a comeradery of sorts, but that didn’t necessitate this sort of behavior. He certainly didn’t take time out of his day to worry about her well-being.

Well… most of the time. He admitted to himself that part of his outburst last night had been due to Amelia’s recent proximity to danger.

“Because I… Ugh! You--” Amelia’s words caught in her throat. She flung her arms out in frustration as she searched for the right words. Feelings weren’t exactly her strong suit. “Because I care about you, you stupid asshole! There’s a person behind the title of World’s Greatest Detective, and I happen to think he’s pretty great. I don’t want him running on fumes 24/7.”

L paused, his playful smile faltering and falling into a flat line. “... Ah. I see.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. Watari had expressed some… affection… for him before, but he had grown accustomed to their relationship, not really expecting any others to crop up in his limited social circle. 

_'You have to let life slip in through the cracks, when you can…'_

Could ‘life’ be a person?

He looked up at her once more, scanning her face for any sign of what he should do. L was no stranger to reading facial expressions, in fact it was an integral part of his job. However, determining a serial murderer’s tells and figuring out what might be your first ever friend’s feelings were entirely different matters.

She looked uncomfortable, the same way she did when he went too far with their games, but there was something else. Her brows slanted upwards in the center more than usual, and her eyes were shifting more and more the longer he remained silent. She was upset, and needed him to say something.

But what?

 _I could fall for you, you know._ The voice in his mind -- the same one that had assaulted him with a wide array of inappropriate thoughts involving Amelia as of late -- offered. He shoved the thought down.

Probably not that.

“Thank you…” he began tentatively, using his hand on her thigh to gently lift himself off of her as he stood. “I find that I am also concerned for your well-being, at times.”

Jesus, they made this sort of thing look a lot easier in movies.

Thanks be to whatever god or otherwise happened to be watching over them, because that seemed to be enough to bring a smile back to Amelia’s face. “Thank you,” she said.

He offered her an outstretched hand, to help her stand up. She took it, eyes not leaving his as she stood to meet him. L could feel her breath against his chin, she was standing so close, but he did not step back. He realized that he never did, when they stood like this. Though, usually, it was because their presence in each other’s personal space was a challenge, or a taunt. This was different, somehow. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

Perhaps this was a good time for that line the more romantic side of his personality had supplied him with earlier.

“The task force will be here soon,” Watari interrupted, stepping back into the room holding two mugs of coffee. 

Unlike what he mentally referred to as the ‘cream puff incident,’ Watari’s sudden appearance did not alarm him. However, Amelia was not so lucky. She stepped back suddenly, tripping over the couch and landing on it in a flustered heap. L laughed softly as she sputtered, taking his cup of coffee from Watari.

“You’d best take a moment to get changed, Miss Adler,” L teased. “Can’t have the task force knowing you stayed the night. The tapes aren’t terribly long, they might wonder what else we’ve been up to…”

He’d never seen a woman leave the room so quickly. He could hear her curses trailing behind her down the hall. “And I’m still going to school!” she shouted from the hallway. “Remember, Holmes, I also hate to lose. I’m not letting you get to Kira first just because I’m trapped in some lousy hotel!”

Ah, yes, he remembered… his outburst last night. He had been acting irrationally, he could see that now with the mental clarity he often found after a good night’s rest. Her life was not his responsibility. As he’d said before, she was an adult, and could make her own decisions. He knew that the case came first, and she was plenty capable of handling herself. He was relieved, somewhat, to let her take her own chances.

“Just be careful!” he called after her.

Even still, he was worried about her. This wasn’t like him. Ever since he’d introduced himself to the task force, and to Amelia, he’d been upsettingly emotional -- perhaps even sentimental.

“I’ll be careful if you are!” she replied.

He wasn’t sure anyone had asked him to be careful before.

 _I really could fall for her,_ he thought.

“But I shouldn’t.”


	17. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amelia takes control of the situation.
> 
> I want to take a moment to thank everyone for reading! This fic has over 300 hits, now, and that's just amazing! Please, if you have any thoughts or ideas, or just want to speculate about how this fic is going to end, drop a comment. I wanna talk with you!

“Good afternoon, Yagami-san.”

“Please, call me Light.”

Amelia hesitated. Something was different about him today. “Sure thing, Light…”

It had been three days since the copy-cat Kira had surfaced. There had been a surge in killings in those three days, likely spurred on by Kira Prime trying to cover the copy-cat’s tracks, meaning he knew that the copy-cat’s victims were outside of his usual targets. So, he buried the headlines in news of new criminal deaths, nearly twice as many as before, to make cover up for the second Kira’s mistakes.

Among those deaths: Benjamin Reiner.

She was actually a bit surprised, considering Benjamin Reiner wasn’t his real name -- meaning someone had been using their police connections to their advantage again to look him up. Benjamin Reiner, aka Charles Deutsch, was dead of a heart attack.

And there was Light, standing smugly at her desk as he had every day since that first day of class. He looked as if he were expecting something. Perhaps he wanted a biscuit for his white knight act.

“I wanted to apologize,” Light said with his usual half smile.

“Whatever for?”

“It seems Kira got to Benjamin Reiner before I could bring him to justice.”

He barely hid the gloating glimmer in his eyes. She took a moment to look shocked, hoping she played the part of a conflicted soul well enough. And the Academy Award goes to…

“Oh, I see…” she sighed, tugging at the end of her braid in a nervous way. “I suppose…”

“What is it?” he pressed eagerly.

She thought, perhaps, she had played him a little too well. His need to jump at any opportunity to ‘save’ those beneath him, and the tantalizing hints of Kira-praise she’d skillfully peppered into their conversations were enough to get him eating out of her hand, so to speak.

“No, I can’t say things like that. You’ll think less of me.” Amelia had no shame. She bowed her head submissively and looked as forlorn as she could, as if the great and wonderful Light Yagami thinking less of her was too painful to even speak of.

His smile grew, just a touch. That mask of his wasn’t as great as he thought it was. “You can tell me anything, Emilia. I promise I won’t think any less of you.”

She gave him a fabricated grateful look that almost verged on worshipful. “Thank you, Light. I wish there were more good people like you, out there.”

“I happen to think you’re one of those ‘good people.’”

“But I’m not,” she suppressed a fake sob, “I’m awful. I’m… I’m happy he’s dead! People are safer without him around. Kira did what I should have done.”

But that part wasn’t a lie. She knew that. Hated herself for it.

Light had the good sense to look distraught at her confession. “I… I can understand why you would feel this way, after what he did. There are people I want to protect, too. Even I have to admit, with crime rates dropping so drastically these past few months, well…”

“You have a sister, don’t you Light?” she asked suddenly.

“What--?” his eyes flashed with suspicion, but it quickly faded. “Was that obvious? Yes, I’m actually kinda relieved that the streets are a little safer for her, despite how they got that way.”

"Careful, Light, you're starting to sound like you side with Kira."

In an instant, his hands were raised defensively. "Of course not! What Kira does is…"

"Evil?" She supplied. Could he even say the word?

"Right."

She smirked, gloating internally at her small victory. "Don't worry, Light. I won't tell if you don't." She stood, sending him a coy wink on her way out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Would it be alright if I asked your son to work with us when he has time?” L asked Chief Yagami that afternoon.

Amelia had just come in back from To-Oh to find the task force gathered around L as he explained his theory about there being a second Kira. Now, he was asking them to let his prime suspect join their investigation -- the prime suspect that she had just been talking to.

 _Well, that’s just great. Now my cover’s gonna be blown._ Amelia stewed in anger. He really didn’t want her messing around with his investigation, did he? Lately, he’d been constricting around her like a vice. It was nothing but rules and regulations and boundaries. She understood he held the reigns when it came to this case, she wouldn’t kid herself into thinking she could solve it on her own, but if he thought she wasn’t going to help, he had another thing coming.

And then there was her living situation, evidently nothing was sacred to L when he wanted to prove a point. She and L hadn’t had a chance to discuss her living arrangements since he’d made his absurd demands the previous night, but she’d woken to find most of her things had magically been moved into his room.

She tried to swallow the acidic anger bubbling up in her chest. Despite it all, he was still her friend, misguided as his attempts to ‘protect’ her might have been. They could talk later.

“If Light, after seeing the first tape, deduces that there is a second Kira, then the suspicion against him will be mostly cleared,” L continued. “Yes, if Light is Kira, he would likely only mention the possibility of a second Kira after confirming my death.” He talked about his death for the third time that day, as if it were something as arbitrary as a weather prediction. 70% chance of rain on Thursday, and a dead detective on Friday…

Amelia felt a bitter taste in her mouth, and it had nothing to do with the tea she was drinking. She’d thought about her own death multiple times throughout the investigation. After all, the chance of death came with the territory when you hunted serial killers for a living. But, even so, she realized she had placed L into some immortal category in her mind -- like he was too clever, too special to die.

And that just wasn’t true.

Once again, L’s voice cut through her internal monologue. It was a heady, sort of smoky feeling she got when she focused on his voice, like she’d had a sip of whiskey. She hated that he had this kind of effect on her, especially when she was still angry with him.

“Of course, this means Irene will need to come up with a cover story, since she’s been attending To-Oh university as one of Light’s teachers.”

The task force nodded in agreement, and began spitballing ideas as if L had just not specifically stated that _she_ should come up with her cover story. They speculated about her life as if she weren't even in the room, or as if she weren't capable enough to decide her own fate. Had they forgotten that she was once on the force, as well?

“Well, she is a criminal psychologist. Maybe we reached out to her for consultation?” Matsuda offered.

“Or perhaps we tell the truth. Irene sent an anonymous tip regarding Kira’s criminal profile, leading to us bringing her to Tokyo to join the investigation.”

“Chief Yagami, are you only offering that explanation because you’ve already told your son about me?” Amelia’s tone was sharp and cold. She’d had enough of people deciding things for her. If she wanted to investigate on her own, she could investigate on her own. If she wanted to stay in her own room, she would stay in her goddamned room.

And if Chief Yagami was going to spout off her life story to the world’s most prolific serial killer, then he would at least get a damn piece of her mind.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Chief Yagami tried to defend himself. “I don’t discuss the case with my family, and I especially don’t name anyone on the task force!”

“You forget that I’ve been talking to your son for weeks, now,” she warned. “And, he suspected me the moment he saw me. Save the act for later. You’ve been practically spoon feeding our prime suspect information from the start -- and why? Because he’s your son!?”

“Even L agrees that Light should be a part of this investigation --”

“And he’s an idiot, too!” 

A shockwave rippled through the room. Everyone looked to L, who regarded her with an infuriatingly patient face.

“In case you’ve all forgotten, we’re trying to catch a murderer! I don’t care what you think of Light; he’s a suspect and he needs to be regarded as such. I can’t pretend to know why you actually want him here, Ryuzaki, but if you’re going to make me play a part in this deranged stage play of yours, then the least you can do is let me pick my role!” Screw holding her tongue. She’d held her tongue so long that her own life had been slipping out of her control.

Amelia didn’t even give L a chance to respond, charging forward with her own ideas. She pointed at Matsuda with her teacup still in hand, the brown liquid sloshing over the side. “The question arose, one month ago, whether it would be wise to consult a criminal psychologist. Matsuda, since I taught you for so long, my name came to mind and you recommended me. This was serendipitous, as I’d just accepted a job at To-Oh, so I agreed to help as an independent contractor, when I wasn’t busy teaching.

“Since my actual reason for being here was already leaked, I’d like to go by a different pseudonym. The woman you all knew as Irene was the one who left the anonymous tip, but she was released from the investigation shortly after Raye Penber’s death, as the profile she gave did not support the new evidence that the incident revealed. From now on, please call me Emma.”

She paused for a sip of her tea, sticking her tongue out in disgust after realizing it had gone cold. This gave L just enough time to try and take back control of the room.

“Hm, that will work. However, I don’t see any need to cover up for the fact that you have been a part of this investigation for seven months, but I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it, will you?” she spat. “Anyway, I’m not finished. Will you _allow_ me to keep talking, Ryuzaki?”

His eyes narrowed, his expression darkening by the minute. “I don’t believe my answer will change your actions, Emma.” The new pseudonym dropped out of his mouth like a piece of food he’d deemed unworthy of his refined palette.

“It wouldn’t.” She puffed out her chest, stalking about the room with newfound confidence. Mastuda recognized the stance from some of her past lectures. “Can anyone tell me what is interesting about the fingerprints found on the Kira tapes?”

“There… are fingerprints, at all?” Matsuda asked hopefully. He blamed the Pavlovian response he’d developed to her questioning tone during his college years. Students who answered her queries usually got extra credit, something he’d dearly needed in order to pass his classes.

“Technically, you’re right. The Kira we’ve been looking for is unlikely to have left behind such damning evidence. Whoever these fingerprints belong to will surely be arrested soon. However, that’s not relevant at the moment. What is relevant is their size.”

“Emma…” L said in a low, warning voice.

“They must belong either to a child…”

“You’re not going to do this --”

“Or,” she spun herself with a flourish, “a woman. Specifically, one with small hands, such as mine.”

The room finally fell silent, Amelia having been satisfied with where her monologue ended. Aizawa furrowed his brow, gazing at her suspiciously.

“Emma is not the second Kira, you have no need to worry,” L spoke as he stood. He made his way over to her, even going so far as to straighten his curved spine to tower over her even more than usual. Anger poured off of him in waves, which she too readily returned with a seething glare. “She’s merely suggesting that we set her up to appear to be the second Kira. She wants us to use her as _bait._ ”


	18. So Here's the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of big braining in this chapter, I promise we'll have more character interactions soon! But hey, it wouldn't be Death Note without long-winded explanations of the gang's game of 4D chess.

A shocked silence hung in the room. Even Amelia had fallen silent, giving her just enough time to realize she had greatly overstepped her bounds. Perhaps she should have discussed her plan with L privately, rather than shouting and acting insubordinate in front of his task force.

"I can apologize later," she muttered under her breath, evidently too loudly, as the detective heard her.

"I'll be expecting it," he whispered in reply. "Now, tell me what you want to do."

She looked up at him incredulously, only to find the anger melting off of his face. It was replaced by the wide, curious stare she was used to. She smiled.

"Right, so here's the plan…"

Amelia turned to address the room, pacing about and gesticulating wildly with her hands as she spoke.

"We record a tape, like the one sent to Sakura TV. I'll pose as the second Kira. Since no one but us and the second Kira know about the other two tapes, we can set whatever believable terms we want to.

"Now, speed is important: we have to act quickly enough that Kira will respond before making contact with the second Kira. If they've met, they'll call our bluff. If they haven't, then even if the second Kira responds we might get some valuable info from them, or at least confuse Kira prime."

Mogi stepped up. "And what will this tape say?"

Amelia grinned wildly. "Have any of you ever heard of the wealthy entrepreneur Benjamin Reiner?"

There were a few mutters and nods. L's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"Well, he's actually a murderer and con man, his real name is Charles Deutsch. He died of a heart attack yesterday. There are no publicly accessible records, even on the dark web, that give his true name.

“The second Kira would have no reason to kill Benjamin Reiner, but someone with a connection to the police -- as we assume Kira prime to have -- might be able to find a file that shows he was placed under suspicion for mass murder and theft a few years ago. The only document in existence that connects the name Benjamin Reiner with his true name, Charles Deutsch, is that very file.”

"Emma…" L interjected, "do you mean to tell me that Kira knows of your involvement in the Reiner case?"

"There's a good chance he does, yes."

"And you intend to mention Reiner's death in this video, in a way that Kira will know you were the officer who was discharged after the incident." L stared her down, fiddling with his lower lip. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he not only pieced together the rest of her plan, but made his own improvements to it. "I presume you want to air this tape tonight, after Light has come to the hotel to take part in the investigation."

"Yes, I would."

"Kira will want to meet with you, and confirm your identity. Seeing as we do not know how Kira or the second Kira kill, you will likely be killed the moment Kira finds you and determines that you aren't who you say you are. This is also true of the second Kira. In fact, they're likely to seek you out and kill you for stealing their chance to meet Kira. It's reckless."

"It's a risk we need to take. Sometimes winning means making sacrifices."

He sighed, recalling the day the firey woman had joined the task force. She'd said something similar that night. "It would be best to mitigate that risk. We'll need to find the real second Kira, without any of our suspects knowing, and detain them. We'll make it seem as though you were merely acting on the second Kira's orders, under duress. That way, when you are found out, you'll be able to get away with not knowing how Kira kills."

"Brilliant!" Amelia laughed, giddy with excitement. "We can re-package the second Kira's tapes, planting my own hair and fingerprints so it appears they were using me as a proxy the whole time. As long as the second and first Kiras don't have a chance to talk with each other, it's a solid lie."

"But wait," Chief Yagami butted in, "why does Light need to be present when the fake tape is broadcast?"

Amelia looked to L. She could tell he already knew that she'd spoken with Light about Reiner, it was evident in the way she'd laid out her plan. He gave her a sidelong glance, shaking his head slightly. He didn't want her to mention it.

L took over, coming up with one of his quick lies to placate the Chief. "Because I would still like the chance to see whether Light deduces the existence of a second Kira, before Emma's video reveals that fact."

The task force seemed to accept this idea, though they still expressed their hesitancy to risk the life of a civilian for their investigation.

"I'm doing this willingly," Amelia said. "And honestly, I would have done it whether you agreed to let me, or not. This way, you can monitor the situation and use whatever information I can get from Kira to your advantage. If things go well, I'll be able to get a direct confession."

"And if things don't go well?" Matsuda asked, looking panicked. "You'll be face to face with Kira! It's too dangerous!"

"You forget that both Ryuzaki and I have been in direct contact with Light for weeks," she explained as she sidled up next to L. "The only reason you did not object to that was because you refuse to see him as a suspect. This is only marginally more dangerous than Ryuzaki revealing himself to Light, or baiting Kira with Lind L. Tailor." At the mention of L's past near brushes with death, Amelia sent the detective in question a cocky smirk, as if to say 'you hypocrite.' 

L sighed and bit down on his thumb. "Quiet, you," he said under his breath.

She turned to him and winked, ensuring the task force would be unable to see her. "Make me," she whispered.


	19. NOT A REAL CHAPTER - An Aside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's the holidays and I am a busy busy bee, so try as I might I could not finish the plot-heavy chapter I have cooking up. So, here's a brief aside I wrote a little while ago and didn't add to the fic. I imagine this happening about a week before the To-Oh entrance ceremony.
> 
> Warnings: Menstruation

“Mnph,” the huddled mass on the couch proclaimed, as if the increasingly wary detective sitting in the adjacent chair was supposed to understand such a language.

“Use your words, mon ami,” he prompted.

Amelia’s frizzy red locks shifted, revealing a piercing set of green eyes that could have cut through glass. “Fuck you -- how’s that for using my words?”

“Better,” he said as he glanced at her over the rim of his tea cup.

“So glad I could be of service to you, your highness.”

“While you’re in such an accommodating mood, would you mind telling me why you have appeared in my parlor at 2 o’clock in the morning, only to devour an entire chocolate cake and collapse on my couch?” L’s tone might have been teasing, if one listened closely enough.

Amelia was not in the mood to listen, however, and answered his query with an expertly thrown pillow to his face. She cracked a satisfied smirk as he coughed and sputtered, the pillow having upset his cup of tea and sent it spilling over his face and down the front of his white shirt.

He glared at her in his newly brown attire. “That was hardly necessary. Why you occasionally insist upon such behavior is beyond-- Ah, I see.”

Abruptly, he stood. His eyes were wide as they skirted away from her. Amelia could have sworn she caught a faint red tinge on his cheeks as he turned away from her and fled the room. She sighed, sinking into the couch. He must have figured her out, she assumed, and decided he’d rather not deal with her in this state. She couldn’t blame him, she was a real piece of work whenever “Aunt Flo” decided to pay a visit.

Her rage having vanished almost the moment the detective had taken his leave, she began to feel a bit bad for treating him with such hostility. After all, she was the one who’d intruded on him. He hadn’t asked her to be there. She realized with a smile that he hadn’t asked her to leave, either. For that, she was grateful. She wasn’t sure if it was the long nights going over case files, or the fact that her own hotel room lacked some of the finer accommodations that L’s sported, but she had come to feel more at home in his suite. Coming through his door in her time of need had almost been second nature; her weary body had sought comfort, and it had brought her there to answer that need.

“Amelia?” an almost tentative voice stirred her from her thoughts. She sighed as she enjoyed the heady, warm feeling that washed over her upon hearing L’s smooth baritone call out to her. She wasn’t about to admit it, but perhaps it was the company that made the suite feel like home to her, not the accommodations. 

“Yes, your highness?” she answered, giving him an apologetic look.

“If I had to choose between the various monikers you’ve given me, I believe I would have to rank ‘dumbass’ over ‘your highness.’ Though, I’d prefer it if you used my name.”

“I don’t know your name, so dumbass will have to suffice.”

He paused, finally registering what he had said. L had always been careful when choosing his words. He never once said anything that wasn’t calculated. After all, every conversation was a transaction -- a chance to either gain or lose something -- and he did not like to lose. Yet, he realized with a slight twinge of horror, he’d seemingly expressed his thoughts aloud without thinking. Of course, he realized she didn’t know his name. She couldn’t. But he couldn’t deny he wanted her to use it, and his mouth had done him the disservice of relinquishing his secret desire without his brain’s permission. He needed to cover his tracks quickly, before he let anything else be revealed.

“Ryuzaki would have worked well,” he said with a slight smile.

She pretended to consider it. “Hmmm... Nah, too average. You don’t strike me as a Ryuzaki.”

He decided to change the subject. “Here, take this.”

In his arms, he cradled a mass of fluffy kitchen towels, which he offered to the heavily confused Amelia in that moment. She cautiously grabbed onto the bundle, surprised to find that it was much heavier than she anticipated, and much warmer. Within the towels, something sloshed around inside of a thick rubber casing.

Reading her confused expression, he explained, “it’s a hot water bottle. I believe this will ease some of your... symptoms.”

“Oh.” A soft gasp rolled past her parted lips. L was many things: spiteful, childish, intelligent, playful, perhaps even shy -- but ‘thoughtful’ and ‘caring’ had never made Amelia’s mental list. “Uh... thanks,” she said lamely.

“You’re welcome.” With the pleasantries out of the way, L resumed his position in the chair adjacent to the couch and continued to polish off his slice of cake.

Amelia clutched the hot water bottle to her core, relishing the almost instant relief it brought her with a satisfied moan. “I owe you, big time.” She gave a contended sigh and snuggled into the couch’s many pillows. “You’re really sweet, when you want to be.”

 _Perhaps you bring that out in me,_ he thought, keeping his mouth shut this time.


	20. Nasty Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which L and Amelia navigate the new developments in their relationship much like I would, because romance doesn't make sense to me... which is perfect coming from someone writing a romance story. Whatever. I hope you like it! It's only half of the chapter I had planned, but since I missed last week's update due to the holidays I thought I'd post what I'm ready to share so far. More coming later this week!

Amelia spent her afternoon writing and recording and re-recording (and re-re-recording) a fake second Kira tape. It took her the better part of three hours, much to L's dismay.

"I'm sure it's fine," he assured her for the umpteenth time.

The red-head didn't buy his half-hearted reassurances. "Idunno… the second Kira spoke with a bit more energy than that, I think I need to try again."

"You're being ridiculous."

"All the best people are. Maybe you're not being ridiculous enough."

"... Just finish the tape."

And so it went until, finally, the woman emerged with a tape that met her unreasonably high expectations.

"So?" she prodded as L reviewed the tape, "what do you think?"

"Hm," meaning: _it's satisfactory._ Leave it to L to suddenly have opinions on the tape now that the fifth version was complete.

"I'll take that as a 'good enough.' Now, when does Light get here?"

As if suddenly reminded of something important, L swung around in his chair to face her. "Ah! Soon, yes." He stood, taking Amelia's wrist and leading her to the hallway. "You'll need to come in after he arrives, Watari will send you a text when it's safe to enter. Also, I need to talk to you about something."

By this point, they were in the hallway, heading towards Amelia's room. "What is it?" She asked.

"While Light is here, I need you to maintain a healthy distance from me; eight to ten feet should suffice."

"I guess that makes sense, we want him to think I'm against you, so it would be bad if he saw us conspiring together."

"Yes. And, please don't do that thing."

"Excuse me? What thing?"

He let out a soft ‘harumph,’ jamming his thumb into his lower lip as he glared at the ceiling in agitation. For just a moment, his eyes flicked over to her, sending a light dusting of pink over his cheeks. He shook his head, as if to dispel it. “It's hard to describe, there are several habits you have that may compromise our cover." He waved his hand in circles beside his head, as if searching the air for the right word. 

Suddenly, he stopped, shoving his hand back into his pocket. "No, wait, I've got it: please refrain from smiling, laughing, humming to yourself, slurping your tea, making jokes or sarcastic comments, sticking out your tongue when you think, and…” he paused in his list, deep in thought, until: “and please do not wear that green sweater of yours. The hem is too short. Oh, also; please do not look in my direction unless absolutely necessary, and try to avoid eye contact if you can."

"I… beg your pardon?" Amelia cocked her head to one side, a hand rising to her face to stroke her cheek in thought. Her face screwed up in confusion as the normally smooth gears turning in her head ground to a halt.

"You may have to stop doing that, as well."

"Holmes, I try not to ask you to explain yourself too often. You and I both know you love to monologue and we don't have time for it, but this time I'm asking: what on earth are you talking about?"

L’s eyes narrowed slightly, a barely perceptible show of his annoyance. He did not like having to repeat himself. “Amelia, you are being deliberately obtuse, I’m sure. I’ve already said that these behaviors will compromise our cover. That’s all there is to know.”

The woman sighed, taking a hand through her bangs and loosing her mass of red locks from its usual french braid. "So you're alright with me deriving my own conclusions from that nonsensical list of instructions you just gave me?"

He grunted in response, already mentally moving on from the conversation to more important matters.

"Typically, it's rude to make assumptions about what someone else might be feeling, but I'm under the impression you don't care about things like social norms."

"That's correct," he answered.

"The list of habits you described could all be considered endearing under the right circumstances, said circumstances being an established relationship between both parties. Or, of course, a crush of sorts. 

"Either way, it implies that you harbor some kind of attraction towards me. At least, it leads me to conclude that these behaviors will elicit an involuntary reaction from you, which Light may read as some sort of emotional attachment. Am I hitting the mark, here?"

He remained silent, pulling the door to her hotel room open and ushering her inside.

Not to be deterred, she continued. "Your refusal to answer only strengthens my claim. If I am indeed right, then you consider me a friend, at least. Light knowing this would surely compromise the investigation. In that case, I'll need to provide my own list of things for you to avoid."

This, of all things, finally got a reaction from the detective. "You find certain habits of mine endearing?"

"Well, of course," she explained, too wrapped up in her analysis to be embarrassed by the admission. "You're a friend to me, so it goes without saying that I enjoy your company and find you to be an all around pleasant person.

"That being said, many of the habits you keep that elicit involuntary responses from me are things that you won't be able to stop doing, such as your sitting position, your oral fixation, or the way your eyes widen when you've figured something out."

Absent mindedly, she made her way over to the bed and sat on it, waving her hands around as she spoke. "I'll just have to work on my acting in those situations. But, it'll help if you refrain from smiling, invading my personal space, making jokes that fly over everyone's heads, spinning in your desk chair, stacking your sugar cubes, and tilting your head cutely when you're thinking."

Of course, no slip of the tongue was going to go unnoticed by the world's greatest detective. "Cutely?" He asked, throwing in a 'cute' head tilt for good measure as he followed her to the bed. He sat on its edge, a few feet from her.

Suddenly, the confident woman rattling off her thoughts was gone, replaced by the fumbling mess of nerves that only L could bring to her surface. "D-did I say cute? I meant obnoxiously. You look like an owl.”

“You must like owls quite a lot, then.”

“Don’t twist my words, Liebste.”

“We’ll need to drop the pet names as well, mon amour.”

“Ryuzaki is a boring name,” she countered. “It doesn’t suit you.”

He stood abruptly, shuffling his feet as he stared off into space. They stayed like that for some time.

Just as Amelia was about to break the silence, he muttered a quick “Just wait for Watari to text you” as he headed out the door.


	21. Set in Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the trap is laid.
> 
> Our heroes will have to work quickly if they want to pull this off. After all, there's only one day left until the REAL second Kira's tape is meant to air. What will happen when they don't get their way?

The text came in an agonizing forty-eight minutes after L had left her alone in her hotel room. She had no script to run through, no new character to get into -- if she acted any differently than her usual ‘Emilia’ persona, or sounded too rehearsed, their plan would be ruined. Instead, she had spent her newly free time concocting a mental argument with L (in which she won, of course).

_“You have no right to move my things without my permission! I never agreed to live in your suite!” She would shout._

_“I pay for that room, I can cancel it whenever I please,” he would retort._

_“Maybe, but Light will notice if I stick around after everyone leaves! I need a place to hide -- I even had to use it today!”_

_“Hm, I suppose you’re right. You’re so smart, Amelia. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner.”_

End scene.

And then Watari’s text had pulled her from her mental melodrama before L’s out of character compliments had a chance to continue.

‘Ready,’ it stated simply.

‘Or not,’ she typed her reply, ‘here I come…’

The sixty-three steps down the hall to L’s suite went by too quickly. She adjusted her hair and sweater over and over before finally conceding that she could stall no longer. Taking a steadying breath, Amelia (now Emma) opened the door.

If Light was shocked to find his Criminal Psychology professor standing in the doorway, he didn’t show it. In fact, he plastered on the same unfaltering smile he always wore. Amelia had begun to suspect that his face had frozen that way some time ago, soon after he’d started lying like it was going out of style.

“Emilia!” he said too loudly, too fondly, “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re a part of the investigation.”

“I’m Emma here,” she chided him. “I’m hardly involved, anyway. I give the occasional update to Kira’s profile, when there’s anything new to add. Anyway, what should I call you?”

“Asahi,” he answered eagerly, “Light Asahi.”

“Seeing as there’s already an Asahi here,” she gestured to the Chief, “may I call you Light-kun? I hope that isn’t impolite.” She feigned ignorance, cocking her head to the side and rolling her eyes to the left as if searching there for lessons on Japanese etiquette.

Light ate it up. “That would be fine.”

“Now that the formalities are out of the way,” L interrupted, looking like his usual annoyed self. “Can we please continue with the investigation? Emma, do you have any updates on Kira’s profile?”

“Yes, I reviewed the tapes you sent me, and I have to conclude that… I may have gotten a few things wrong in my initial assessment.” She hung her head in mock shame, giving her just enough time to think over her response. She would need to choose her words carefully to lay their trap. “This isn’t like him at all, the criminals _punished_ were only minor offenses. What’s more; he seems to have gained the ability to kill with only a face.”

“Hmmm,” L comically drew out his characteristic hum. He wanted to relish this next sentence, as he didn’t get to say it often. “That’s incorrect, Emma.”

“What? You mean, there’s something I missed?”

“Yes,” L said with what Amelia thought was entirely too much glee, “in truth, there is a second person who shares Kira’s abilities. Light was able to figure that out, perhaps he should be the one teaching at To-Oh, instead.”

“W-what?” Amelia balked, turning to Light. “You figured that out with only these four tapes?”

Amelia suppressed a grin as Light visibly flinched. L had told her about the test before they had parted: he had planned to see if Light would ‘deduce’ the presence of a second Kira after viewing the tapes (minus the one they’d recorded that day). Keeping the second Kira hidden from L would be in Kira’s best interest, seeing as they could kill L without knowing his name. However, if Light did not suggest the presence of a second Kira, L would have all the more reason to suspect him. If Light did suggest the presence of a second Kira, which it appeared he had, then it proved he’d been effectively backed into a corner -- meaning L was safe for now.

And that was Amelia’s cue to drive him even further into that corner by her carefully planned 'slip of the tongue.'

L was on her in an instant, though thankfully kept to the eight foot rule they’d established earlier. “What do you mean, ‘only these four tapes?’ Are you suggesting there are more -- and how would you know this?”

“I…”

“Ryuzaki!” Watari stepped in, right on cue. “We’ve received another tape from the second Kira.”

“It is just as Emma predicted, then,” L muttered with as much disdain as he could muster, casting her a sideways glance. “Play it, Watari.”

Warati did as he was bid, and a familiar garbled voice filled the room.

 _“Greetings, I am Kira..."_ It began.

_“Or, rather, I am like Kira.”_

“Why would the second Kira admit this so readily?” Light asked, an almost accusatory edge to his voice.

_“I have recognized my sins, and have decided to no longer threaten the lives of innocent people. I have learned that Kira is a benevolent god, he would not want me to behave this way. Kira has received my prayers, and I will return this great gift with the gratitude it deserves. The death of Benjamin Reiner is a blessing not only to myself, but to the world.”_

At the mention of Benjamin Reiner, L feigned surprise. “Reiner? I thought his true name had been hidden from the public. And if the second Kira can be believed, he was killed by the first Kira…”

Light’s expression remained calm, a practiced kind of poise that was as unsettling as it was unreadable.

_“The people Kira kills are sinners, such as Reiner, whose sins will finally be known to the world after his death. I promise to cleanse the world of sin alongside Kira, starting with my own mistakes.”_

“Watari, search the police database for any file containing the name Charles Deutsch and connecting it to Benjamin Reiner. Our previous assessment that Kira has connections to the police may be true, after all.”

“Right away, Ryuzaki.”

_“I am retracting my ultimatum to the police.”_

L and Amelia glued their eyes on Light, hoping for even the barest trace of emotion. He may have twitched, or caught his breath, but it was difficult to tell.

_“Now that I know Kira’s identity, I will no longer need the police’s cooperation in order to find and kill L. I am confident that, working together, we will be able to end his opposition to the creation of a peaceful new world.”_

Finally, Light showed a hint of shock. Perhaps he’d deemed it safe to react to the second Kira’s statement in that way, or perhaps his mask could only hold back so much.

“They know Kira’s identity? So… they’re met?” he said. It was the most tentative sentence Amelia had ever heard him utter, like he knew that L wouldn’t buy that Light really thought that.

“I’m surprised at you, Light,” L admitted as he closed the gap between them. He was now mere inches from his face. “With your deductive capabilities, surely you realize that the second Kira has ascertained the first Kira’s identity without him knowing.”

“I…” Light had the audacity to look ashamed. “I guess I didn’t catch that.”

“So the second Kira knows who Kria is?” Soichiro nearly shouted. “Then that means we can use the second Kira to find the first! That’s great!”

“It would seem so, yes,” L mused. “And since the second Kira appears to be much more stupid than the first, we should have little problem finding them.”

With some small, visible effort, Light’s face sprung back into its usual smile. “That’s great news. I’m going to help you find the second Kira in any way I can!”

“Thank you Light, your enthusiasm is appreciated. We should get started right away. Oh, and...” L finally moved away from him, taking his seat in front of the wall of monitors, “if I die within the next few days, Emelia McCarthy is the second Kira.”


	22. God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh plot. Lots of plot. There's basically no L in this update, sorry. I had planned to give him a scene in this chapter, but the week is running short and I found a good stopping point, so here you go! Hope you like it. Comments appreciated!

Amelia had expected Light to corner her after their next class together, as he often did. She had expected to spend her Wednesday eagerly awaiting news of the investigation (as, of course, she was no longer allowed to be present while Light was there, unless it was for her ‘weekly Kira report’). She had expected him to approach her desk on Thursday afternoon and ask her to meet him somewhere private, where he would then question her about the tapes.

She had not expected him to track her down to her room late Wednesday night.

Evidently, L had expected it, because that day she received a text.

Was this text warning her about the serial killer rapidly approaching her door? Of course not. Instead, it read:

‘Bracelet contains a camera and mic. Try not to block it.’

Then, several minutes later:

‘2nd Kira responded. Kira has not seen it. Shinigami.’

Both text abruptly deleted themselves seconds after they were opened, leaving Amelia thoroughly confused and more than a little miffed. She tugged on the golden chain around her wrist angrily. Now, not only had L started making plans to move her into his suite, he had also very likely been spying on her since February!

As usual, before she had any chance to confront L on his insistence on invading her privacy, Kira swept in and interrupted her.

“Hi Emilia,” Light began, peering through the barely-open door at the terrified woman behind it, “Ryuzaki told me you’d been staying here during the investigation. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be missing class tomorrow.”

Quickly, but possibly not quickly enough, Amelia realized that Emilia the professor had no reason to be cowering in fear behind her hotel door. She swung it wide open, grinning at ‘Emelia’s’ favorite student. “That’s perfectly understandable, Light-kun. Though, I must say I’ll miss our usual afternoon chats.”

He laughed, and perhaps it was her imagination, but it sounded more forced than usual. “Me too, it’s normally the highlight of my Tuesdays and Thursdays. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be back next week. Ryuzaki just has me working all day tomorrow.”

“It’s great that you’re a part of the investigation,” she said carefully. “Though I suppose that sounds a bit weird coming from a suspect.”

“No worries, I’m a suspect too, remember? I know he’s supposed to be a great detective, but somehow I have a hard time believing I’m Kira.” Then he laughed again, scratching the back of his head in what looked like an approximation of an endearing gesture.

Then, his demeanor changing almost instantly, he struck.

“Say, how about we have our usual Thursday chat tonight? There’s a cafe nearby that’s still open.”

“Oh! Uh, I suppose we could--”

“Great! Let’s go.”

His hand on her wrist was like a vice, biting into her skin painfully. She tried not to panic as she was drug down the hall, into the elevator, and towards the subway station.

“Sorry,” he said with a sneer that did not look remotely apologetic, “I lied. We’re going to my house, I hope you don’t mind.”

Light Yagami’s home was quaint and cozy. At least, the three seconds worth of viewing time Amelia had gotten of it before being shoved into Light’s room gave her the impression it was quaint and cozy.

By contrast, Light’s room was pristine, like a magazine’s approximation of a college-aged boy’s bedroom. It looked like the only place he spent any time at all was his desk, which had the decency to at least have a snack wrapper littered on its surface, as well as a few pencil filings and stray pens. These apparently unforgivable evidences of human life were quickly brushed into an awaiting trashcan before Light took his seat.

“Sorry,” he said again. Again, he didn’t seem apologetic in the slightest. “I needed to find someplace where we wouldn’t be listened to. It’s about the case.”

“Wouldn’t the hotel have been secure enough? I’m sure if it’s good enough for Ryuzaki, it’s good enough for us.” Amelia peppered in a meaningful pause, in which she widened her eyes a fraction. As much as she was judging Light’s insincere performance, her theatrics were probably no better. “So it’s true…”

“What’s true?” he asked as if uninterested, though the tight grip on the arm of his desk chair said otherwise.

“You’re Kira.”

Light made an aggravated ‘tsk’ sound behind his teeth, before leaning back in his chair as if merely annoyed by the accusation that he might be the most prolific serial killer in history. “Why does everyone keep insisting that I’m Kira? Trust me, if I were Kira, I would know.”

It wasn’t a denial, but it wasn’t a confirmation, either. He was good at that, she realized. It was going to be difficult to get anything close to a confession out of him. She took a moment to think. It wasn’t safe to take the ‘we’re safe here, you can talk to me’ route -- Light probably didn’t have a lick of trust in her, and had probably only taken her there to kill her off. She suppressed a shudder at the thought. Well, at least her death would be caught on tape, maybe it’d help get him caught.

L’s cryptic text message from earlier came to mind. Shinigami… That was the second time she’d seen that term pop up in relation to the case. If it came from the second Kira’s tape, and had been used in the first Kira’s taunt to L, then there must have been some significance to the word for the two killers.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said with a forced laugh, “you’re trying to catch him, after all. Honestly, I’m getting pretty tired of trying to find Kira. For all we know, this could all just be the work of some deranged Shinigami.”

Light’s imitation of laughter was so close to the real thing, Amelia almost felt like she could see some glimpse of the young man underneath the killer’s mask. “Haha! So L gave you that test, too? Don’t think too much about it, it was just a poem left by Kira. There’s no such thing as Shinigami.”

That was the first time he’d mentioned L by name.. Or by the closest thing to a name either of them had for the detective. So that was why he’d brought her here, to get her to kill L for him. After all, if their plan had worked, Light would believe that she was the second Kira, meaning she could kill with only a face. She’d have to tread carefully to avoid revealing herself.

“You’ve gotten to see L?” she asked excitedly. “Of course you have, you’re too clever not to have found him already.”

Something akin to shock flickered behind his deep brown eyes. “So you don’t know, then…?”

“Know what, who L is? No, I don’t… sorry.” It wasn’t too difficult to pretend to be afraid of Light’s reaction to her admission.

“He’s a pretty secretive guy… he does most of his work through Ryuzaki, but I’m sure you already figured that out.”

All this ‘I know, you know’ stuff was starting to make Amelia’s head spin. She took a second to gain her bearings. So, Light was trying to lead her towards recognizing Ryuzaki as L. Or, at least, as someone who needed to be taken care of. That meant he expected her to kill L for him, just as she’d predicted. Now, how was she going to get out of this room without Light realizing that she couldn’t kill L?

Luckily, Light took the lead. “Ryuzaki’s a pretty weird guy. You know he goes by Ryuuga on campus? Seems he’s got a lot of names.”

Bingo! Names! It was a stretch, but in a case where one killer only needed a name and face to kill, and another needed only a face, the name was the only remaining factor preventing the first from getting to his target. And since he didn’t mention Ryuzaki’s face… that meant the second Kira still needed a name to kill, they just had some way of finding it out!

Ok, it was a serious stretch. Amelia could practically hear L scolding her for jumping to conclusions, but at this point conclusions were all she had.

“Yeah, I bet he has an English name, actually. He’s part Japanese, but I don’t think he’s from here.”

Light tapped a pen furiously on the table.

Taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap.

He was expecting her to do something, like pull out the murder weapon (which she didn’t have) and execute L using his real name (which she didn’t know).

“Really? You think so?” was all he said. Even when she’d allbut admitted to being the second Kira, he was still infuriatingly cautious. “So, you think there’s no noteworthy name for our oddball friend… Well, let’s hear your best guess, then.”

She didn’t miss the odd way he worded his sentence, but couldn’t for the life of her work out what he was trying to say. Which was bad, because in this case it really was for the life of her. It was clearly something that both he and the second Kira would share.

Noteworthy.

A hit list? Maybe they sent a list of their victims to some sort of hitman.

Damn it, she was so close, and now she could feel her charade crumbling around her.

“Oh! Well, I… I think it’s probably something like… L-lawrence.”

Instantly, his eyes narrowed. Wrong answer. His fingers began to drift towards the top-left drawer of his desk. In a flash of horrible realization, Amelia knew that this was indeed Kira, and that innocent looking drawer held the most dangerous murder weapon in history. She could feel the seconds ticking away. Honestly, she had expected to see her life flashing before her eyes, or to reflect on some regrets in her final moments, but all that stood before her was a too-pristine bedroom and its equally unnatural inhabitant.

Some final moment, huh? She briefly wished she’d come up with a witty one-liner for her last words, at least.

“Light?” the heaven-sent voice of Mrs. Yagami cut through the silence. “I don’t want to interrupt, but it’s getting late.” She cracked open the door, just enough to let Light know that she wasn’t taking no for an answer, while still respecting his privacy.

She was a good mom, though Amelia couldn’t help but find it funny that she had the guts to tell Kira that it was past his bedtime.

The tension never left Light’s face, and his eyes remained on Amelia like a cat who had just cornered a particularly annoying mouse in which the cat would take extra pleasure in killing. “Sure thing, mom. Emilia McCarthy, it was nice to see you. Do you want me to walk you home?”

It was clear he didn’t expect her to make it home, at all. The question was more like ‘would you prefer to die alone, or shall I come along and watch?’

“I can head out on my own, it’s not too far.”

She forced herself to give a short, polite bow to the one people had begun to call the God of the New World, and calmly walked out the door.


	23. L, the King of Comedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We're back to the cute things. Next up: difficult conversations and "binding" agreements (eyebrow waggle). Enjoy~

The moment she was out of sight of the Yagami household, Ameila collapsed against the side of a building and heaved. It turned out that near death experiences left a rather unpleasant taste in one's mouth. Still, through the heaving and shaking, Ameilia felt the strange urge to laugh.

Emilia McCarthy.

He'd called her Emilia McCarthy! He didn't know her real name. She was safe.

Then her elation melted away. Sticky, black dread crept back up through her spine.

 _I failed._ she thought. Then, it was the only thing she _could_ think.

_I failed I failed I failed I failed IfailedIfailedIfailedIfailed._

She broke into a sprint, she needed to get away. She needed to be alone. It was a strange site to the citizens walking the streets that night -- one red-headed foreigner running through the streets, especially since many of them noticed another figure running right towards her. Of all the concerned onlookers and bemused observers she passed on the streets, the person she had least expected to find was L.

"Oof!"

And yet, there he was, quite literally having run into her.

He was difficult to recognize at first, but she soon saw his familiar raccoon eyes underneath the hood of the baggy black jacket he'd donned as a disguise. After the two detectives had a moment to compose themselves after the sudden collision, they stared at each other in shock.

"Holmes? But I thought…"

"You're alive."

It was a statement of fact, sounding as unenthused as he ever was. And yet, as she looked at him standing there -- out of breath from running and looking at her with rapt attention -- Amelia couldn't help but feel it was more than a simple observation.

Her dread, once sloshing around her skull, sank into her stomach and became quiet for a moment. She felt that funny urge to laugh again, and acted upon it this time. "An astute observation. Care to tell me another?"

L did not reply. His spidery hand tentatively reached for her, hung in the air for a moment, and finally landed on her shoulder with a feather-light touch. Dark eyes bored into hers.

When L looked at people, it was usually with an inquisitive eye, as if humans were merely something interesting to study. He would construct a careful wall between himself and his test subjects, a one-way mirror that shut the observed off from the observer’s thoughts and emotions. Humans were so utterly transparent, and even the most nuanced or secretive individual fell into neat, predictable patterns if one only studied them long enough -- an arch of the eyebrow, or a twitch of the nose, or even a barely perceptible narrowing of the eyes could allow him to determine someone’s emotions. L preferred things this way, and used his knowledge of the subject to expertly hide his own tells and patterns so that, when people looked at him, all they would see is themselves, reflected back at them. So long as he kept his mirror intact, he could fool most anybody.

Except, it seemed, for Amelia.

Because, when Amelia looked back into those wide, dark, impenetrable eyes, she found something: his fear. And, when she listened to the way his breathing began to slow, she found his relief. But the most telling of all was the gentle touch on her shoulder; much lighter than someone else might grip someone, but much firmer than she had come to expect from him. Shock. His need for comfort. The need for _her_ to comfort _him._ And so she did. She set her dread and self loathing aside for just a moment, because he needed her, and who was she to deny him? She stepped forward, lifted her arms, and oh so carefully circled them around his back.

And, in such a simple motion, L felt his world of one-way mirrors shattering around him.

His hand lifted from her shoulder as if she had burned him, his spine unbent from its characteristic slouch in a vain attempt to create some comfortable distance between him and his attacker. This wasn’t like their previous contact, there was no game, no accident to explain away the closeness. And yet, there she stood; her hands barely touching his back and her face hovering over his shoulder. He could feel a few stray locks that had sprung from her braid tickle at his neck. She stood there like a bubble around him as if waiting for permission to come closer. 

He wouldn't give it to her. He couldn't. There wasn't room for her within his walls. These were the things he told himself as he felt his traitorous arms slowly lower over her shoulders, as he unconsciously relaxed into her embrace. 

He heard a small voice in the back of his mind scolding him. Was he really going to let her in so easily?

But then, her arms tightened around him.

And suddenly, he was assaulted with sensations. She was pleasantly warm and too hot and comforting and stifling all at once. She was entirely too close and yet never close enough. Her fingers traced circles on his back and her hair grazed against his cheek. He felt her breath expand in her chest and trickle out through her nose as it whispered over his neck. It was too much, and it wasn't enough, and for the life of him he couldn't make himself move to rectify either.

All too soon, and all too late, she released him. "Are you alright?" 

And then L had a new emotion to contend with, self disgust. She had asked him if he were alright, as if she hadn't just nearly escaped Kira's wrath, as if his discomfort was more important than her scrape with death itself.

Was it that obvious? Was he so defeated by this woman that he looked worse off than someone who had just been face to face with certain death? He blinked, pulling himself back into his hall of mirrors, back to safety. He couldn't afford to be subject to his hopeless infatuations when he had come all this way to protect her. Yes, he was there to ensure her safety, he needed to pull himself together. After all, the danger had not passed.

He fell back into his usual posture, his eyes taking on their characteristic blank stare, instead of the deer-in-headlights look he had worn moments ago. "We need to get back to headquarters. Here, take this," he instructed as he shucked off his jacket and thrust it towards her.

Amelia accepted the jacket wordlessly and put it on. It smelled like cedar, and had probably been folded in some drawer for months, always set aside in favor of L's preferred white shirts. She pulled the hood over her head, the baggy black fabric hiding her face from view.

L gave a small, satisfied nod as if to say 'good enough,' and led her down the road towards the subway station. Amelia hesitated. She didn't want to go back to headquarters, she wanted to be alone. But he turned and stared at her again as if to say 'are you coming, or not?' and she found herself once again unable to deny him. They walked in perfect silence, each too absorbed in their own thoughts to bother with conversation.

 _I should be doing something,_ L thought. He wished Watari were there, he’d know what to do. Alas, he had no Watari to send him encouraging looks, or to surreptitiously email him “helpful articles” on dealing with people’s emotions (on more than one occasion as of late, he’d sent articles with titles such as “how to woo a lady” and “10 ways to tell if she likes you back.” These were promptly deleted without being opened). He stole a glance at her.

She looked sad. Very sad. Much sadder than she should be, considering they’d all but found out where Kira hid his murder weapon. Maybe she hadn’t realized that, yet?

“The weapon is in his desk drawer, then,” he said as if commenting on the weather.

Amelia kept her eyes trained on the pavement, barely giving him a nod to indicate she’d heard him.

Hm, that wasn’t working. He tried another angle. “So, what do you think those hints about ‘notes’ meant? Wouldn’t it be interesting if Kira could kill by simply writing down a name…”

Again, nothing.

They entered the subway station and boarded the train, standing in the center and holding onto a metal bar for support, in complete silence. Normally, L loved silence, especially the companionate silence he’d come to enjoy with Amelia. But now, it was torture. He racked his brain for something, anything to get that half-dead look off of her face. He vaguely recalled a joke book he’d found in the library as a child…

It couldn’t hurt, could it?

He cleared his throat. “So… I’m reading this new book on anti-gravity.”

Amelia blinked, shaking her head a little as if to say ‘what on earth?’

 _Holy shit, it’s working._ He thought. _Thank you, Winchester Public Library._

“It’s impossible to put down!” he whispered as he raised his eyebrows. He sent her a small smile, bending over and craning his neck in order to make eye contact with her lowered head. It was an approximation of how he’d seen others deliver such jokes, and he was not remotely practiced at it. His usual dry whit did not require any theatrics, so this overblown expression looked on his face like a poorly fitting mask.

It was, for lack of a better word, outlandishly creepy. Luckily, Amelia was used to L being outlandishly creepy, so she found it hilarious. Her downcast face cracked into a small grin. Tiny bubbles of laughter crept up through her throat and passed through her lips in little puffs of air.

“You might want to stick to your day job, detective. I don’t think you’ll be adding ‘World’s Greatest Comedian’ to your resume any time soon.”

“Geeze, tough crowd.”

But, she lifted her head just a tad, and that ghost of a smile never quite left her lips, so he had to disagree with her on his comedic prowess.


	24. UPDATE - Ch23 HAS BEEN EDITED

This is a quick author's note to let you know that I have made some slight changes to Chapter 23. I try not to go back to already published chapters, but this had to happen in order for the events I planned out for the next arc to make sense. Just giving you a heads up so the next chapter doesn't seem odd or jarring to you.

Also, the next chapter will delve into some emotionally heavy stuff. If mentions of self harm or suicide are not your cup of tea, I suggest you skip it. I will post a chapter summary without the suicide mentions in Ch26's notes so you can keep up with the plot.

I'll be posting the next installment either tonight or tomorrow, see you all soon!


	25. Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. And. Angst. FLUFF. AND. ANGST. God, I love this shit, it's so cathartic to write.
> 
> Like I said in the update, I'll be posting a summary of this chapter in the next one in case anyone doesn't like reading about these kinds of things.
> 
> But for those of you who, like me, enjoy reading our characters suffering, enjoy!

The two young detectives were greeted in the hotel lobby by a very stern looking Watari. Evidently, L had not bothered to alert Watari to his sudden disappearance, and didn’t seem to appreciate ‘just how difficult it is to organize a search party for someone whose face cannot be revealed under any circumstances.’

“The situation did not allow time for me to speak with you,” L said by way of explanation. It seemed Watari was not going to get an apology.

With the practiced patience one could only possess after years of putting up with the World’s Greatest Detective’s childlike manners (which he possessed little of) and will (which he had in ample supply), Watari only said “Understood. I will call off the search.”

“Thank you, Watari.”

And that was that.

Amelia was not so quick to comply with L’s wishes. This, he knew, but rediscovered once they exited the elevator to the floor on which they both were staying. Rather than following him, an instruction he thought he had made clear when he had told her ‘follow me,’ she turned sharply to the left and headed to what used to be her hotel room. Of course, he had cancelled that room that afternoon, as per his plan which -- again -- he thought he had made perfectly clear to Amelia.

“Where are you going?” he asked, standing stubbornly in place, barely raising his voice to reach her retreating form.

“To my room.”

“Your room is this way, I had your things moved into the suite.”

At this, Amelia sighed and turned around. L relaxed, content that she was going to comply without a fuss. But then, she moved towards the elevator and pressed the call button.

“Guess I need to find somewhere to stay, then,” she said simply.

“There is no need.” L’s thumb migrated toward his lower lip, his brows furrowed in equal parts frustration and confusion. Didn’t he make it clear that she would be staying with him until it was safe to part ways (or, perhaps, never part at all)? “As I said before, you have a bedroom in the suite.”

“I never agreed to that.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

She remained silent. The silence was only broken by the faint ding of the elevator arriving. With nary a glance behind her, she stepped towards the elevator. L sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He looked to his right, then his left. There were no staff in the hallway. Good, he didn’t want to have to bother explaining his next actions to any onlookers. He crouched lower, readied his leg, and --

Amelia suddenly noticed the ground fly away from underneath her feet, and a swift pressure behind her ankles. She realized with a start that she was falling backwards, until something behind her back and her knees broke her fall and lifted her horizontally. L’s blank stare hovered above her. She felt her shock quickly fade into anger.

The bastard had just swept her legs out from under her! And now he had the audacity to carry her like a sack of potatoes into his damned suite!?

The door had barely shut behind them when Amelia spun herself in his arms, landing a knee in his chest and knocking him off balance. She took advantage of the brief stumble to roll out of his arms and into a low crouch on the ground.

His eyes widened in shock, he stared down at her. “You kicked me.”

“Yeah, I fucking kicked you. You knocked me over!” She stood, keeping her head low. The black hood she still wore hid her face from view. “I’m not staying here!”

“I’m doing this for your safety. Now that Light has set out to eliminate you, it’s imperative that I keep you under constant surveillance.”

“Fuck being safe!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “I just want to be alone!”

“You and I both know that you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Why, because Kira could kill me? Newsflash, he doesn’t have my name! I chickened out and left even though I wasn’t in any danger! And now we can’t keep playing the fake second Kira angle. I should have just stayed and -- and --”

“And what, died?”

“Yes!” It was a hoarse cry, raw from barely-contained sobs. She lifted a fiery gaze towards him, tears streaming down her now visible face. “At least then we’d know how he kills! God, I’m so fucking useless!”

_Clink!_

Something cold wrapped around her wrist, and it wasn’t her hidden camera bracelet.

“What the hell is this, Ryuzaki?”

“A backup plan.”

“ _Handcuffs_ are your backup plan!?”

“If you will not comply with the plans I created for your own safety, then it must come to this. Go where you wish, but I’ll be there.” He quickly fastened the other end of the cuffs -- which sported an overly long chain -- to his wrist. 

“That’s ridiculous,” she huffed.

“You had me fooled, you know. Not a lot of people can say that,” he said as he meandered over to the couch and crouched on the seat. “It wasn’t until I revisited the notes from the Reiner case that I realized what you were up to.” 

She laughed wryly. “There’s nothing else to glean off of that case, Holmes. I knew he was up to no good, I rushed in, and I shot him. He burned the evidence and I got canned. Just another failure to add to my long, long list.”

He plucked a pastry from the coffee table, and voiced his thoughts between bites. “At first glance, that appears to be the case. Omn. However, there’s one thing missing. Hahm. The weapon you used to shoot Reiner, where did you acquire it?”

“I… I stole it from their supply. It was a criminal hideout, they were stuffed to the gills with guns.”

“Precisely what I thought. Omn. And you would agree that entering the hideout was a clearly dangerous situation?”

“Yes…”

“Sometimes, getting ahead and getting killed are one in the same…” L was paraphrasing, but it was more or less what she had said to him the night she first joined the investigation. “Your reckless methods aren’t just bordering on suicidal, they are suicidal.”

Amelia’s knees felt weak. They buckled together as she fought to keep herself upright, though all her weary body wanted to do was curl up on the floor and cry for a few hours. “Just leave me alone, I’m fine.” It was barely audible.

“Once I’d figured that out, I left immediately to find you. It wasn’t Kira who was a threat to your safety, we’d planned everything too well for that to be the case. Do you want to tell me what the biggest threat to your safety is?”

“I wanna be alone…”

“It’s you, Amelia. Were you even planning on coming back after facing Light?”

“Leave me alone…”

“Losing you would be,” he searched for the right word. Agonizing? Unacceptable? He settled for “a detriment to this case.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me…”

“So, these handcuffs will need to remain on until I am convinced you are safe. I will, of course, be sure to respect your privacy as best as I can under the current circumstances.”

“I just wanted to catch Kira,” she said a bit louder. “You have to take risks.”

“Risking your life and throwing it away are two entirely different things,” he finally addressed her, rising from his seat and approaching her. “And I’m not going to stand aside and watch you destroy yourself.”

Finally, Amelia lost her battle against gravity. She collapsed to the floor in a jumbled heap of limbs, shoulders racked with quiet sobs. “So what if I wasn’t going to come back? I failed. I shouldn’t be here.”

L crouched down in front of her. “You didn’t fail. You did exactly as we planned, even if you had other ideas.”

She stayed silent, too tired to argue, too exhausted to do anything but lie there. She knew she looked pathetic, crumpled up on the floor like that, but she couldn’t move if she wanted to. Perhaps he would walk away and ignore her if she stayed put long enough.

No such luck. L seemed to recognize that she was spent, and carefully slid his arms underneath her. He lifted her into his arms and stood. He grunted slightly at the effort, but did not complain as he carried her to her new room. Well… technically it was his room, but she was going to be using it.

_Actually, I have to use it as well, don’t I? Seeing as we’re chained together._

He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

She did not protest, lying limply in his arms as he shut the door behind them. Slowly, he laid her on the bed, careful to keep the chain binding them together from wrapping around her. Then, he stood by the bedside, thumb playing with his lower lip and brows once again furrowed.

_Now what?_

In a truly uncharacteristic move, he had not thought before acting. Standing there as she lied helplessly on the bed crying was making him extremely uncomfortable. He considered working for the next few hours, until Amelia was well rested enough to continue their conversation. But that wasn’t going to work, he realized. The chain wasn’t quite long enough to reach from the bed to the desk. He could work on the floor, but his laptop was still in the living room.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. Her voice was so weak. Where was the stubborn, childish, reckless young woman he cared for? It was distressing to see her so defeated.

Without a second thought, L hoisted himself up onto the bed and crawled over to her other side, careful not to touch her until he laid next to her. He faced her, his dark eyes skirting over her hunched form as he tried to plan his next move. Slowly, he lifted a tentative hand to stroke her hair. She flinched at the touch, but didn’t move away, so he continued. He’d read that physical contact with a friend was supposed to improve one’s mood.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. She kept repeating the phrase, each iteration punctuated with another sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

It damn near broke his heart. And here he thought he’d gotten rid of that pesky organ a long time ago.

Taking a page from Amelia’s book, he decided to comfort her in the way she had comforted him not even an hour ago. He took a deep breath, reached his arms around her, and pulled her close.

“It’s ok,” he whispered whatever affirmations he could think of as he held her. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It's going to be ok. I'm here”


	26. I'm a... Pervert?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Can you believe how many hits this story has gotten!? I'm so so happy you all like this story, and I hope I'll be able to live up to your expectations in the coming chapters. I'm posting early, since this is really more of a half chapter. Next up, more plot! The story's going to get a bit different from canon now, if you didn't catch that already.
> 
> For those of you who did not read the previous chapter, here's a summary: Amelia had a nervous breakdown after her meeting with Light, feeling that she failed because she was unable to get him to confess. She tried running away, but ran into L who had run off to find her like something out of a romance novel. He took her back to the hotel and did what he could to calm her down, eventually resorting to chaining himself to her so that she couldn't run off again. He brought her to bed, and because she was just oh so distraught, he joined her in the bed and "respectfully" and "platonically" cuddled her to sleep (and not at all because he really wanted to do it).
> 
> So there you have it! I'm writing each chapter as I go, so if there's anything you want to see me follow up on, or expand on, or even add to the story, I'm always open to suggestions!

The first thing Amelia noticed was that her eyes were still heavy and strained when she opened them the next morning. The next thing she noticed was the dull ache in her chest and throat, and then her embarrassment at having broken down in front of her friend and esteemed colleague. The fourth thing…

"Ah, you're awake," L said.

Said esteemed colleague had his arms wrapped firmly around her, his front pressed up against her back and his head nestled into the crook of her neck. His breath tickled her as he spoke.

"The task force arrived about an hour ago. I sent Watari to give them my instructions," he explained.

Amelia couldn't move. Her face was hot, her palms were sweating. She wished she could collapse in on herself and vanish into thin air. Why was he here? And better yet, _why was he holding her like that!?_ Suddenly, her memories from just before she fell asleep came rushing back to her.

_"I'm so sorry," she sobbed._

_"It's alright, I'm here."_

Oh, Lord, she could have died right then. Screw heart attacks, Kira should have looked into killing people with embarrassment.

"We'll need to explain to them why we're chained together, of course." He continued as if nothing were the matter, as if Amelia wasn't about to spontaneously combust. "Light will be there, so our best angle will be to say that I'm keeping you under surveillance because I believe you to be the second Kira. If he objects to your presence, or refutes my claim in any way, it will only raise suspicion. He'll understand that he can't kill you, of course, because last night's attempt did not work."

She nodded, it was all she could manage.

He shifted, lifting himself to peer over her shoulder at her beet red face. “Is something the matter, mon Ami?”

She looked away, shaking her head slightly.

“Ah, you woke up in an uncooperative mood. Perhaps some persuasion is in order.” L’s hand shifted, lingering over her side. Then, like the merciless bastard he was, he started tickling her.

Amelia screamed, “Seriously!?” L had a habit of messing with her, but this was too much. She struggled in his grip, pushing him away to the best of her ability amidst peals of strangled laughter. “What the fuck!? Ahahahaha! Let me go!”

This outburst seemed to satisfy L enough to cease his relentless tickling, but he did not let her go. Her struggles only caused him to tighten his grip and brought a smile to his lips. “Ah, so she does speak.”

“Let me go!”

“Hmmm…” he drew it out as if considering his options. “Nope.”

“I’m gonna scream for Watari!”

“He won’t hear you, I had all the rooms in this suite sound proofed.”

“Fuck you, Holmes!”

“Maybe later. First, I need you to answer a question.”

“I’m not saying shit until you let me go.” Amelia stopped struggling, crossed her arms, and pouted.

L chuckled at this. She really was cute when she was flustered, and an angry Amelia was far better than a depressed Amelia. “I’m not letting you go until you answer, and I believe you’ll find that my stubbornness far outweighs yours.” For good measure, he tightened his grip once more. “Last night, you told me that you had ‘failed’ in your confrontation with Light. However, other than your self-destructive tendencies, everything seemed to go according to plan. So, my question is this: in what way did you fail?”

Amelia remained stubbornly silent. L sighed, he realized he was going to have to push her a lot further to get anything out of her. As much as he was enjoying holding her, he needed to get back to the investigation soon, and Amelia’s cooperation would be vital under their current circumstances. He didn’t have time for banter right now.

So, he cut to the end and said something guaranteed to make her want to get out of his arms as quickly as possible. “You still seem reluctant to speak. Are you embarrassed? Could it be that you woke up sexually aroused? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, I found myself under similar circumstances just this morning.”

“WHAT!?” Amelia shrieked, clawing at his arms in a desperate bid to be let go. Realizing she would be unable to break his vice-like grip, she finally conceded. “Ugh, fine! I said I failed because he didn’t say anything that we can book him on! He was too cautious! I failed to lower his guard! Now will you PLEASE let me go, you pervert!?”

As if on cue, L’s arms went slack. Amelia scurried away from him as quickly as she could.

“I’m a… pervert?” he said, as if this were some interesting new fact he had learned about himself. He had a gift for looking utterly hilarious when he was caught off guard. Amelia’s anger and embarrassment began to fade as she looked at his wide-eyed expression. It was getting harder and harder for her to be in a bad mood when L was around.

“Well, you did handcuff yourself to me,” she laughed.

He joined her, “I suppose I did.”

It was in moments like this that she thanked her lucky stars for L. Yes, he was a pain in the ass sometimes, but if he hadn’t been his usual stubborn self last night… she wasn’t sure what might have happened. Yet there he was, taking time out of his undoubtable busy schedule to cheer her up and make sure she was alright. 

Even if his methods were... unusual, for lack of a better term.

They laid there, now a good foot apart. Their laughter died down, replaced with that uncomfortable silence of two people unsure how to move forward. L felt unpleasantly cold. Amelia refused to look him in the eye, instead facing away from him and keeping her face hidden. It was good that she did, because if L got a look at the particular shade of red she was turning, he wouldn’t have let her live it down for years.

“You… you didn’t actually… did you?” she asked, unable to form the sentence she needed.

He paused, scratching his lower lip in thought and looking towards the ceiling. “Hm… I’m not sure what you’re referencing. Care to elaborate?”

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about! Stubborn boy.”

“Are you, perhaps, asking me if I had an erection while I was holding you last night?”

“Eugh! Why did you have to say it like that?”

“Ah, so that is what you were asking. Well, well, Miss Adler -- it seems I’m not the only pervert in the room.”

With an angry _harumph!_ as her only reply, Amelia shot out of bed and headed toward the door. She did not bother getting dressed -- she had fallen asleep in her clothes from the night before. Only mere feet from the door, a tug at her wrist stopped her. She turned to investigate the interruption. It was L, pulling the chain that bound them together.

“Remember, you can’t run off,” he teased. Then, his expression turned serious in a flash. He was going to give her emotional whiplash at this rate. He was standing now, and headed towards her. His hand lifted to her forehead, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “And I’m the only one who's allowed to look like he just rolled out of bed. We have a case to solve, and Light is used to seeing you looking professional. You can’t let him know he got to you.”

“R-right.”

With a satisfied smile, he finished up with her hair. “There, that should do it.” He reached for the handle, sending her a sidelong glance. “Oh, and Amelia?”

She nodded, though it was half an attempt to shake herself out of the heady feeling her friend’s unprecedented attention was giving her.

He continued, holding the door closed just a moment longer. “I feel this needs to be said: Your actions allowed us to locate the murder weapon. I have a team dismantling Light Yagami’s desk as we speak. Last night was not in vain and you most certainly did not fail.”

Amelia balked. How could this man have such an effect on her? She felt hot and light and dizzy all at once. On one hand, she was elated that he did not see her as a failure. On the other, she felt that L of all people feeling the need to reassure her was only further proof of just how badly she _had_ failed. And yet, looking at his serious expression, she was forced to conclude that none of her self doubt mattered right now. If he was making this much effort to ensure she was alright, then for whatever reason, he needed her to be alright.

So she took a deep breath, straightened her back, and gave him her winningest ‘go get ‘em’ smile. “Alright, let’s go catch a serial killer!”


	27. We're Going on an Adventure!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the short chapter, after a long wait, but things are crazy over here. My husband and I might be expecting! So it's been a lot of prep and doctors over here.
> 
> Also, the name thing is started to get confusing even for me, so to recap:
> 
> Real name: Amelia  
> Fake name: Emilia  
> Investigation name: Emma  
> And everything else is a nickname.
> 
> Enjoy!

Light Yagami was a patient man. He had to be; he was a God, after all, and it wasn’t in his nature to be wrathful or entirely unforgiving (criminals and nerdowells aside).

But, but, but… his patience was being tested. Even Gods had their limits.

She was supposed to be dead. Why wasn’t she dead? And L, that bastard, looked too smug for his own good. What was he hiding? It was all Light could do to hold his face in his usual care-free expression as he stared down the detective out for his blood and the supposed Second Kira.

Ha! Second Kira, his ass. He had to admit, he’d been fooled for just a moment, but now it was plainly obvious that this ‘Emilia McCarthy’ was a fake, right down to her name.

That had to be the only explanation; she’d been using a pseudonym from the start. Somehow, L must have gone back through her records and changed her name before pulling this ill-conceived stunt.

“Light-kun,” the bane of his existence spoke in his usual monotone, “just in time. I was about to begin questioning the Second Kira.”

Light tilted his head, holding back a sneer. “Oh? Have you found proof, then?” _Just in time? You were the one late to your own meeting! And why, so you could conspire with the fake?_

Said fake stood behind L, glaring daggers into his back. “Stop calling me that! I’m telling you, I’m not the Second Kira!”

“Ryuzaki!” Light’s father shouted, “I demand you explain this immediately!”

 _Explain what?_ Light looked at the detective again, eyes darting between him and the imposter. Surely he wasn’t referring to L’s suspicions, the detective had made that clear only two days ago. Light watched as said detective nonchalantly lifted a hand to scratch behind his ear, revealing a thin silver chain dangling from a handcuff around his wrist.

_Wait, a chain!? What the hell is going on?_

“Explain what, Chief?” L said too casually for someone who had just been discovered handcuffed to a woman who seemed to want no part of it.

“You can’t just handcuff yourself to a defenseless woman like that, it’s not right!”

Light smirked. His father was ever the honorable man, always so vigilant in his view on justice. Perhaps that staunch view on good and evil had rubbed off on his son. It was nice to remember the kind of people for whom he was creating his New World.

"I am only doing what is necessary," L explained. "After all, I have reason to believe she made contact with the first Kira last night."

 _What in the hell is he planning?_ Light outwardly took his father's side in the debate, but inwardly he couldn't help but obsess over the detective's potential next moves in the game of chess they'd invented. "If there is evidence against her, don't you think she ought to be in prison? This seems invasive, even for you."

"I didn't want to be kept in a cell," Amelia provided, if only to put an end to such a redundant argument. "There isn't enough evidence to convict me, but Ryuzaki insists that L thinks I'm the second Kira, so this is the compromise I made to help clear my name."

"That L thinks…?" Mogi began.

"Yes, now can we please get to work? We're starting late enough as it is." L cut him off, hobbling over to his chair with his captive in tow.

"He's the reason we're late in the first place," Aizawa grumbled, but got to work nonetheless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amelia took a seat next to L's and provided what help she could, given that under her current story she was not a large part of the investigation. The time passed without much incident, though Light took plenty of opportunities to ask about the night before. Of course, L and Amelia revealed nothing, only that L believed Amelia had made contact with the first Kira due to her disappearance that night.

Light’s thoughts were moving at hyper speed. _Should I fess up to being with her last night? No, Emilia’s too volatile, I need to remove myself from the equation. If L mentions that I was with her, I’ll simply tell him that she left soon after we met up, and I don’t know where she was the rest of the night._

_Still, I need to talk to her privately, and soon._

"Is there any security footage to show where she went last night?" Light asked, keeping up his habit of talking about Amelia as if she weren't in the room.

"I am waiting to gain access to footage from several train stations she may have used," L told him.

Amelia groaned, "I told you, I had to get groceries! All you have here is cake! It's --"

The sound of Japanese bubblegum pop cut her off. Perplexed, she looked for the source of the noise, only to discover it was L's cell phone, which he promptly opened and held delicately to his ear.

"Hold that thought, Emma," he said as he held a finger to her lips. She noted with some discomfort that it was slightly wet with spit from his incessant stoking of his lower lip. "Yes? Hm, interesting. I see. Alright, thank you Watari."

With a _click!_ he hung up his cell phone and turned his wide eyed stare on the task force. "I have to attend to something. Please, feel free to head home for the day. Except for you, of course." He turned to Amelia, finally taking his hand off of her face. "You'll have to come with me."

“Is something wrong?” Light asked, staying behind as the rest of the task force packed up to leave. He was unwilling to leave the two alone, there was no telling what information L might get out of her.

L openly smiled, and Light fought the urge to curse under his breath. That was a “got you” smile.

“I assure you it is nothing related to the case,” he said with that smug grin still lingering on his lips. “However, if you wish to come along, I will not stop you.”

“It’s not like you to step away from the case like this. Where are you going?”

“Aoyama,” L said, already halfway to the door and slipping on his tattered sneakers.

“You’re going out? With a woman chained to you?”

“... is that a problem?”

Did he really not know? Or was he messing with him?

Light laughed, “Well, you might attract some unwanted attention.” _Besides,_ he thought, _this would be the perfect chance for me to separate Emilia from L._ “Why don’t you take the handcuffs off for just a bit? I’m sure the two of us will be able to keep her from running off.”

There was that damn smile again. “Thank you for offering, Light-kun. However, I already have a solution for this.” He pulled a thin, translucent wire from his pocket with small metal clips on either end. He clipped one end to his belt loop, and gestured for Amelia to do the same with the other end. “This wire is actually even stronger than the chain connecting our handcuffs, and it’s practically invisible from a distance. It’s much shorter, though, so we’ll have to stick close together.”

Indeed, he was only a foot away from her. They’d practically have to walk side by side. Amelia coughed, trying to hide her blush behind her hand. What was wrong with her? It seemed like she was getting even more sensitive to his presence since that morning. Even with her passable acting skills, it was going to be hard to convince Light that she wasn’t close to the detective.

“I hope that’s alright,” he said with a smile.

“O-of course,” she said, trying to disguise her flushed cheeks as general embarrassment at the situation.

And for once, Light and Amelia were on the same mental wavelength in their feelings towards L, if not for very different reasons. 

_Damn him,_ they both thought in unison.

Undeterred, L cheerily opened the door and ushered them out. “Then let’s get going. There’s a bakery I want to visit that closes in two hours, we’d better hurry or we’ll miss it.”


	28. Enter Misa Amane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, this baby is already making my life too busy lol. That, and I'm so tired I don't even feel like writing most of the time, so sorry this one's up late. It's also a little rough, but it's got its moments!
> 
> Light might be dumbed down a little, or acting a little goofier than usual, but this is a comedy! I'm leaving the drama for O&O.

Misa Amane was no stranger to Aoyama. In fact, she spent as much of her free time there as she could. The shops and cafes there were irresistibly cute, especially the Q-pot cafe (which was both a cafe AND a shop, a match made in heaven if you asked Misa).

But, the Q-pot cafe did not have a good view of the street, and the Blue Note did. She couldn’t deny that the name had been a part of the decision, as well. She could admit she had a flair for the dramatic when it came to things like this. And who could blame her? She was seeking out the most important person in the world, a little flair was necessary.

So there she sat, sipping a coffee that would have been cuter if it came from the Q-pot cafe, tugging on the edge of her blouse which would have been cuter if she didn’t need to wear a disguise, and feeling just a bit less than herself as she scoured the streets for the self-proclaimed god. Rem, Misa’s own personal God of Death, hovered patiently by her side.

“Kira can’t see Misa like this,” Misa whined. “This wig is awful. I don’t look cute at all!”

“You said, yourself, that you must meet Kira today,” Rem reminded her. “With Sakura TV airing the fake’s broadcasts in lieu of your own, this is your best chance at finding Kira.”

“I know, I know! It’s just… Ugh!” Misa buried her head in her hands in shame, but the instant her palm met her face she sprung back up with a triumphant “But Kira cares most about whether or not you’re a good person! Yeah, he won’t care that I’m not looking my best. And the next time I meet him, I’ll be sure to dress up extra cute, just for him!”

“As you wish, Misa,” Rem agreed. “Still, I have to wonder… how do you know he will be here?”

“Because I left a message for him, silly!” Misa giggled. “I know the news didn’t air it, so the police must be taking my tapes before they can get to Sakura TV. Kira kills lots of criminals before they appear on the news, so he must be looking at police records! I’m confident Kira is smart enough to find my message and decode it.”

“And what of the impostor?”

Misa scowled, “Oh, that fake! Riding on Misa’s coat tails just so they can meet Kira before me? Hmph! No way Kira’s dumb enough to fall for that crap.”

Misa didn’t pay any mind to the stares she was attracting for talking to herself in public. She was a star, attention was no stranger to her, good or bad. Besides, what were they gonna do? It wasn’t like they’d be able to find her notebook or anything, she’d kept it at home in her safe. Misa was a smart girl, if not a little overconfident.

“Oh, there he is!” she squealed, lifting her sunglasses to get a better look. “I didn’t expect Kira to be so…”

 _“Hot beyond all reason”_ was the phrase on the tip of her tongue.

She settled for “young.”

“Does he not meet your expectations?” The way Rem said it, it almost sounded like she was threatening Kira for not being what Misa wanted. Misa couldn’t allow that.

“He’s better than my expectations! And what a funny name… Light Yagami…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unaware of his new admirer, Light was beginning to wonder if any court could really blame him for killing L. It was bad enough that his clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb, but the mountain of sweets he was carrying made him look even more eccentric than usual. The tower completely covered his face, so the detective rudely pushed through the crowded streets of Aoyama, giving any annoyed onlookers a loud “sorry!” in a fake American accent.

Emilia, meanwhile, carried her own tower of boxes (courtesy of L, who evidently needed at least two of every sweet he purchased) and stumbled blindly behind L. Light was surprised he hadn’t been asked to carry one of his own.

_Could it be, he’s trying to hide his and Emilia’s faces from the second Kira?_

_But then, why would L draw so much attention to himself? Wouldn’t it have been better to blend in with the crowd? Unless…_

_He wants the second Kira to find me!_

Finally, the pieces were falling into place. Yes, if the second Kira made contact with Light, not only would it increase his suspicion against Light, but it would rob Light of the chance to use the second Kira’s Shinigami eyes. He had to make sure that the second Kira did not find him, or at least, that he didn’t make a big scene of it.

Damn that lazy Shinigami… if only Ryuk would tell Light how the second Kira would be able to recognize him. 

“Light!”

_Shit!_

A bubbly woman with dark hair and glasses traipsed over to the odd trio, smiling and waving like she was meeting an old friend. “I can’t believe I’m running into you here, of all places. How’s it going?” she said in a voice dripping with sugar. Even L might have found her tone too sweet.

_I’ve never seen this woman in my life! And for her to know my name… could she be the second Kira? Even if she isn’t, L suspects her now. But if she is... I need to make this count. This could be my best chance to get L’s real name!_

“Oh… hi!” he said with a touch of hesitation. L was sure to notice, Light would have to cover it up. “I barely recognized you! I don’t think I’ve seen you in casual clothes before.”

The woman giggled, striking a pose. “Yup! Feels good to get out of that stiff uniform. Are these your friends?”

Said ‘friends’ had yet to peek out from behind their towers of boxes, but clearly were listening on in interest.

“They’re coworkers,” Light explained. “I’ve been helping my dad out with NPA business. Why don’t you guys introduce yourselves?”

_And show her your faces, dammit._

“Ryuuga Hideki,” spoke one tower of boxes.

“Emma Carson,” said the other.

“I’m Sato Akari, nice to meet you!”

“Akari-chan,” Light said to feign familiarity, “would you like to walk with us? We’re trying to hit up every sweets shop in Aoyama.” In truth, he needed to buy time. There had to be a way to show her L’s face. But how?

As they continued wandering from shop to shop, adding to the ever-growing horde of sweets, Light looked for every possible opportunity to get L’s face into view. He tried to surprise him into dropping his boxes, quickened his pace in hopes of L being unable to keep up without tripping, and even offered to carry the boxes for him. But, every attempt ended in failure, until the group finally reached the end of the shops.

“Well, that was enjoyable,” L said. “We should be heading out now. It was nice to meet you, Sato-san.”

“Yes, it was lovely meeting you,” Emilia chimed in.

No, they couldn’t leave yet! Light was getting desperate. After this, it would be nearly impossible to get L in front of the second Kira again. He glared as the detective turned on his heel and pulled Emilia long with him by the thin cord tying them together.

_The cord, that’s it!_

Thinking fast, Light pulled a pen from his pocket and casually dropped it on the ground under Emilia’s feet. Luckily for him, both were too encumbered by boxes to notice such a small action. Like clockwork, Emilia stepped on the pen, which rolled out from under her, sending her and her tower of boxes tumbling down.

Well, the boxes tumbled down. Emilia was caught by the arm before she could pull L down with her. He had somehow managed to snake a hand out from under his sweets to catch her without losing a single box.

“You need to be more careful, Emma. That surely ruined several of the cakes.”

Emilia winced, stepping tenderly on her right foot as she stood back up. “Gee, thanks for the concern.”

“I assure you that I am highly concerned about these cakes.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

So-called Sato Akari stared at the space above Emilia’s head for a moment, her face screwing up in confusion. “Well, it was nice to meet you… ah, sorry! What did you say your name was?”

This seemed to get L’s attention. His back straightened slightly as he said “Ryuuga Hideki.”

“Oh yeah, I got that one! And yours, miss…?”

Light stepped in as quickly as he could. “Oh right! Akari’chan’s not so great with English. Carson might be a bit hard for her to remember.” He couldn’t have this dim-witted second Kira blowing his cover so soon!

“Yeah… yeah! Just not good with English,” she giggled. “Is it ok if I just call you Emma? That’s easier to pronounce.”

“Of course!” Emilia smiled.

“Great! Well, I’ll be going then. Later!” she called over her shoulder as she trotted away.

“Well, it’s getting late. I guess I should be heading home, too,” Light prompted.

“Yes, do get home safely, Yagami-kun,” L responded as he continued down the road.

Light smiled and gave them a curt bow before turning around. But, Sato Akari was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, and there’s no need to walk your friend home,” L called after him. “She’s being arrested as we speak under suspicion of being the second Kira.”


End file.
